P:TUC - Scenes From A Memory
by Pocket-fulla-shells
Summary: Based on what happened before Floyd became a Pokemon, Scenes From A Memory focuses on Floyd's life as a human, how he met Grovyle, his religious devotion to Dialga and how he eventually learns to survive in a blackened, insanity-ridden future and the first steps in attempting to revert the apocalypse.
1. A Fateful Friendship

Pokemon: The Unknown Continuum: Scenes From A Memory

Chapter 1: A Fateful Friendship

(INCLUDES MAJOR SPOILERS FOR POKEMON UNKNOWN CHASMS - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

"Wow, I can't believe it!" I said loudly. "Why the hell are they planning to give all pokemon free health care, even for trainers?! The taxes will be incredible! it will be like receiving a massive pay dock!" I continued to rant about a recent scheme to give all pokemon free health care to people at a party - yes, it was alcohol induced, but I strongly stayed by those words. "The bullshit is mounting! Why the hell should I pay money to fund people's expensive and morally questionable habits!?"

"I agree Floyd, completely ridiculous." Douglas said to me - he was a good friend, and a damn good drummer, and we were both in the same band together. "Don't say that to Omar though, he's become a real enthusiastic trainer ever since he got his hand on a pokeball – he can now evolve his dratini without worrying about it being too big. If he's not playing guitar, he's training his dratini nowadays, and that's only if he's not working – the man barely sleeps as you probably already know." I sighed and leaned back in the chair. The scheme was only announced earlier today, and would come in play next month after much pressure from trainers across the country. I was far from the only one who disagreed with the new government scheme - there have been a few protests already, though none of them that big. Ever since the advent of pokeballs, pokemon training has gone through the roof! Almost one in five said they were trainers, or were certainly thinking about becoming one, and the amount were increasing astronomically and I took another swig of Strongbow in frustration.

"Well, I think tonight's gig we played was fucking excellent. I'm truly happy about it - had a great fucking time." I said, smiling with my mouth open and took another swig trying to change the subject to something more positive.

"Ah, you say that about every gig." he said jokingly back to me. It wasn't a big house party having only ten people here at the most, but it suited me just fine . Regardless, it was past midnight and I had no interest in crashing here.

"I could be the only one here, but I just have no interest in looking after, befriending, training, or have anything to do with pokemon. I mean, I know this is going to make me seem like a foul Giratinist, but, I just can't see why people treat them as socially equal to humans. Obviously, I don't see them as particularly as 'lesser beings' but I just can't enjoy a conversation like the one me and you are having, Douglas." I burped loudly, and the smell of cider and my fish supper wafted out of my mouth. Disgusting, but ultimately, it was due to happen.

Giratinists were on the whole shady scumbags in my eyes, but to be honest, pretty much everyone does - I cannot bring myself to see how they could worship something so evil, and yet, I seem to share one of their keystone beliefs by sheer coincidence. The belief was that pokemon and humans should be separate from each other, and shouldn't integrate much at all. I believed it was up to the humans, and ultimately, the pokemon as well, but I never integrated with pokemon anyway. Matter of fact, I was scared of them, almost terrified. Maybe that was an overstatement, but I never felt comfortable around them, but for good reason – many of them can bring severe pain onto people and other pokemon fairly easily. What if I were to annoy a charmander by accident? It could just breathe fire on me, and I would no doubt be sent to hospital to have my burns treated, but I'd still be permanently scarred.

It just seemed that with the invention of pokeballs, they've been integrating far more with humans. Obviously, a big pokemon like a tyranitar could not fit in your house until pokeballs came around - that was all possible now. Nevertheless, there is a few pokemon that integrate with pokemon in a very different way, of which I am sceptical about some of them. I personally have doubts whether Giratina exists or not, and I do think the claims of the arrogant church of Arceus were outrageous. Indeed, they describe him as all powerful, but he does fuck all nowadays.

However, the one being I knew deep down that existed is very much active, and keeps this world flowing – Dialga, my lord. I've been described as close minded by the 'softer' religious people and atheists, but in the righteous book of Dialga, lays proof to me that he is very much real, and keeps time flowing constantly. Without him, we'd be living in a world frozen in time at best or a non-existent one at worst, which is why I worship him, attending church every Monday at midnight to celebrate the new week, and hear teachings of High Priest Kirk Munro, my father. People often just say 'oh, it's only because your father's a religious zealot that you are blinded by your stupid, retarded faith.' Ignorant, immoral fools they were, or at least I thought of non-Dialgans that way when I was in a bad mood.

While The Righteous Tome of Dialga does acknowledge Arceus's existence, it spells out clearly that he does nothing but observe us like we were stars in his reality show and still accumulates over half the world's population licking his feet. The bastards often picket our church services, holding signs, telling us to 'follow the true noble and holy path' or some other generic crap, and hanging just outside the church grounds to avoid conflicts with the law. Irritating as it is, I always smugly respond 'Arceus only painted a picture - Dialga turned it into an everlasting movie, in which we all star in', which is always followed by a smug grin as I walk into the church building.

The Church of Dialga never had a country where it was particularly strong in, always being overshadowed by the Church of Arceus, or on occasions, the Palkian temples, which were almost non existent in the UK thankfully. In spite of the Righteous book saying bad things about Palkia and his followers, known as Palkians, I actually got on with them more than Arceists. As for the Giratinans, they were minute in number all across the world - it was almost like a cult, and thank the holy shit for that. Yeah, maybe I was a bit of a zealot, but I was damn proud for standing up for Dialga and his righteous moral wisdom, and I always found enjoyment in arrogantly bitching about other faiths with my father. That being said, I have always been happy to befriend people of different religions, and I do promise not to bring up religious discussions, in order to prevent potential friendships turning sour.

"I'm going to head home in a bit." I said to him - he was an atheist, but still a very moral man, and I knew fine well that following Dialga, or any other deity was not a requirement to be moral, even if it helped immensely. Better no religion than a false one I always said.

Dialga does like being worshipped for his hard work, but he does not actually specifically ask for it in the Righteous book, and encourages us to abide to a tried and tested, ridged moral code, which is often seen as heavily dogmatic by even other religious people. Such basic examples include never ever lying, never killing any human or pokemon, respecting that people's time cannot be recovered and treated with grace and the utmost respect for the laws in the nation unless they are truly heinous. Gotta have good laws for good, healthy order in society.

Those were mostly common sense and thankfully most people follow those guidelines anyway regardless of faith, but to truly be righteous, you had to really go further - proportionate vengeance is indeed a virtue, as it really does help prevent assholes doing asshole things. Why, every good system of law and order does this in some way or another, though to varying degrees of success, but even little incidents should be dealt with, providing the golden rule is never broken - the retribution must be more lenient than the crime, else the moral high ground would be ripped away.

"Hey, Floyd, don't let the bastard crusaders smash your head in with a wooden sign!" Douglas said and laughed, sharing my general dislike for the Arceists. "I want to stay longer, I'll see you next band practice, eh?"

"Will do, see you!" I said and walked towards the front door. I turned to briefly look in the mirror in the flat entrance hall. Damn, what a sexy beast! Well, if you find slightly untidy dark brown hair that almost reaches the shoulders with a well trimmed but defined beard that encircled my mouth on a twenty year old, then I guess the statement would be true. I stroked my beard thoughtfully and walked out of the door.

There was a chilling breeze in the air, but it was hardly freezing cold. I zipped up my fleece and walked onto the night-time street – it wasn't busy for a Monday night, and I liked it this way better. It would be a mighty journey to my own flat at the other side of Edinburgh, but my dad only lived a twenty minute walk away - I'm sure he wouldn't mind me staying the night there.

I briskly walked through quieter streets as I honestly couldn't be bothered walking the long way round, hence, a short cut through the forest was in order. As I walked alone, I did ponder about people's relationship with pokemon. In The Righteous Tome, it was encouraged slightly, but it was hardly a big focal point of Dialga's ways.

My dad recently covered up this fault, though not really on purpose - he phoned me two weeks earlier, telling them that some pidove he came across was being 'a real friend' to him and 'keeps him company throughout the less interesting parts of the days.' Last night at the advent of the new week, he gave a very brief lecture on his friendship with this pidove, and how friendships with pokemon were a positive thing, but I just couldn't work over the general fear I had of them - I usually kept my distance from Omar's dratini, even if it was evidently trying to be friendly.

They made me uncomfortable, but I guess it was just me. I've been having a bit of inner turmoil of whether I should forcibly work over my fear of pokemon, to help myself become a better Dialgan, or should I be true to myself and just accept it and deal with it? I came across the forest, and my dad's house was just on the other side - just a small bit of wilderness really. It'd only take 5 minutes to get through as it was a sparse wee woodland anyway.

"Ugh, I can't wait to climb into bed..." I said and opened a bag of crisps I took from the collected snack pile from the party. I bit into one as I started slowly walking between the trees, and it seemed like I mistook a packed of cheese and onion for salt and vinegar, and I was not a fan of cheese and onion. I grumbled as I ate the unsatisfactory crisps, as a gust of cold air blew from behind me, blowing my hair conveniently right into my mouth. Frustrated, I just threw the bag on the ground and walked on, not enjoying the taste of cheese, onion and hair. I spat on the ground and carried on trekking through the patch of woods. There were no more gusts of wind which was nice, but what wasn't as nice, is the fact I almost tripped over a thick tree root. I didn't blame myself too much though, as it was very hard to see in the darkness.

I burped, once again smelling the fish super and cider. It was kind of eerie in the woods, due to there being barely any light, though it wasn't enough to make me bump into the trees. I reached for another can of Strongbow in my bag, though there was one left, and after thinking for a short while, I decided to just go ahead and drink it. I took a swig - it was a bit warmer than I would have liked, but it was still good. Then, something made the back of my neck tingle in anxiety – a twig snapped behind me ominously. That was never a good sign considering the wind had totally died down by this point.

I inhaled through my teeth and looked behind me. My eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, so I could see a few meters ahead of me, but I still could see nothing - probably just the wind that snapped off a twig on the end of a tree anyway. I walked on forward, ignoring it, but then I heard another twig snap. I was always a relatively paranoid person, at least compared to the easy-going Omar, but I have been properly paranoid on previous occasions...

I looked round slowly - another odd noise. This time, I was damn sure it wasn't just the wind - something _was_ there, I was sure of it. I stared into the darkness for a bit, and backed up slowly. I couldn't quite see it, but I was absolutely sure I was being followed. I inhaled deeply, and stared into the darkness and after a brief moment, I could see a shape moving. My eyes fixated on them on their own accord as I studied it's highly vague form. It looked about a third my height, but that was all I could make out. It came a bit closer, and I could hear a snarl - it wasn't friendly for sure.

"Ah...oh, shit..." I said to myself, and started sweating in fear as had no idea what it wanted, or even what it was. I ground my teeth together to try and maintain my nerve. I was just about to utterly leg it, and whether this creature wanted to kill me or just want me away, I had no idea. I couldn't take it anymore - I spun around on the spot to face the other way and charged away from it. I had no time to be tipsy as right now, my health, or perhaps even my life could be at terrible risk. I looked behind me for a brief second - it was unmistakable - it was a houndor. Marked with a traditionally evil colour scheme of black, red and grey and a savage demeanour, it looked hell-bent on ripping me to shreds if it didn't try to incinerate me first. I could just see two more behind it, one of them looking a lot bigger than the others, or at least I thought it was, not giving proper time to exam then. I turned and fled with incredible haste, ignoring my body's cry in agony of being pushed past its normal sprinting limits.

I could hear them gaining ground on me from behind making me whimper in fear between my gasps for air. Adrenaline was being forced madly all around my body to reach every single end and part to push me beyond my usual limitations. I briefly looked round again, and saw that the one at the front had already leaped at me, claws and teeth at the ready. I stumbled backwards as it slammed on me, and that was when my 'flight' instincts suddenly turned into 'fight' instincts.

I screamed and hooked it on the side of the face before it could deliver a lethal bite to my neck. I punched it again with all my might once again and kicked it off, sending the houndour reeling across the ground, making me very grateful it didn't try to burn me to death. I immediately scrambled to my feet, only to see that the other two were in striking range. I dived behind a tree to avoid one of their vicious attacks and continued to run, but I knew it was hopeless now and could only hope that they'd change their mind about rending my flesh to pieces.

I screamed in fear of my life – I knew my chances of survival were slim to none, and yet, my life did not flash before my eyes. To be honest, I doubted it happened to many people, but what I did think of is all the regrets, and all the things I wanted to do. Why didn't I get into music at an earlier age? I could have been great, instead of just decent. It was a shame really - I guess my fear of pokemon was sensible after all, but even that wasn't going to save me low, as I heard frantic pawsteps from behind me.

And then...that's when 'it' happened. Something jumped right at me from above and I instinctively ducked. I had no idea what it was, but it seemed like it wasn't necessary, as it went high over me. The distraction was enough to make me stumble, and, while I didn't completely lose my balance, I did cause me to crash into a tree. I looked around to see what the hell it was - it looked almost like a miniature ninja about half my height, and it was fighting the houndoom that must have been leading the two houndor. Was it saving me from certain death?! I stood up, a bit disoriented, seeing this thing fight off all three of them with relative ease. It seemed to attack with blades from his arms, or at least it was what it looked like.

Watching in awe, I could see it wasn't human - it could have been a pokemon, and it probably was. It seemed to slice the air with it's 'blades' and it looked like it shot ninja stars right at them. The houndoom looked like they were about to retreat from this unknown warrior, when it dealt a decisive attack - it seemed to gather energy between it's two hands, which glowed bright green that almost dazzled me within the dark of the forest, and threw it at one of the houndooms, sending it several meters in the air with a small explosion. They immediately fled after that, when this warrior turned to face me and walked up to me.

"Eh...don't hurt me!" I said, not keeping a stiff upper lip at all, and my jaw was trembling like jelly in an earthquake. As it got right up to me, I could see that it was a grovyle, and it seemed to smile.

"Of course not, human, now up you get." It said to me. Yes, I knew pokemon speaking fluent English were extremely uncommon, but perhaps due to the alcohol or the fact I almost died, I didn't think much of it at all.

"O..of course. You saved my life, I'd be dead if it weren't for you!" I said gratefully. OK, it still felt strange communicating with a pokemon, but not as strange as I imagined it to be. "Thank you so much. Seriously...oh, what would Dialga say about repaying someone who just saved my life?"

"Think nothing of it, now lets get you home. I don't see why you were in this forest anyway." The Grovyle said, and made sure I wasn't injured.

"I'm fine. I was pounced on, but I wasn't bitten, torched, or even scratched." I said as I walked towards my dad's house with the Grovyle.

"What's your name anyway?" He asked me. "Sorry if I'm being too upfront, but you're just about the only human I've had a chance to meet who didn't go 'Oh my god, a talking pokemon?!' and started asking endless questions about it."

"It's Floyd. I mean, it's unusual, but you seem to have human like intellect, so I'll treat you like one." I said, still not thinking too deeply about it and more focused on how I almost died a few minutes ago. From all the running and sweating, the alcohol concentration built up within my body, quite possibly making me more friendly and accepting. I'd certainly never act like this if I was sober.

"You seem a bit drunk, Floyd." He said to me, sounding like he was in disapproval. "I never understood why you humans drunk so much, in spite of me extensively looking into the fascinating human culture."

"I only had four! Wait, is that how you speak fluent English? Interesting...You have a name as well?"

"Just call me Grovyle - we pokemon aren't given names at birth by our parents, and it'd be too strange to receive a name now." Grovyle said, looking a bit sad at the thought "I guess that was part of the reason I started looking more at the human culture and how much of it is such a vast improvement over my old life. Sleeping in buildings, and in cosy beds, with hundreds of ways to entertain yourselves, oh so wonderful! I could have been a part of the culture, but If I was brought in as a trainer or pet, I'd be treated as 'lesser' no doubt, and well, the pokemon I grew up with...I just can't enjoy a conversation with them on the same level ever since I've been enlightened about the human ways."

"I can't imagine how horrible it'd be to sleep outside in the wilderness all the time." I said to Grovyle. I did believe what he said, but it was all very strange to me. My sober side kept on saying 'What the fuck is going on here?!' while my currently dominant drunk side was keeping me mutual and casual about the whole thing. We arrived at my dad's house before long.

"Hehe, just forgot, my dad's on a weeks holiday, fortunately, I have a key." I said, and unlocked the door. "Make sure you're fully clean before coming in, I'm not sure if my dad would be too happy with me coming in with a complete stranger when he was away on holiday." I said, and Grovyle nodded and wiped his feet outside on the grass, and wiped them on the slabs before walking in.

"Dear fuck, I am so tired..." I said sleepily and lied down on the couch, and stretched my legs - I couldn't be arsed walking all the way upstairs into the spare room. Matter of fact, I was so tired, I couldn't even be arsed getting the toothbrush out of my bag (Which I always carried on with me) to brush my teeth. I saw Grovyle sit down on the other couch in the living room.

"Hey, Floyd...if it's not too much trouble...to you mind if I stay here tonight?" He said, and I responded almost immediately.

"Sure, if you really want to." I said without thinking much. I was too sleepy, tipsy and kind to say no really, though I personally would not like the idea of him staying in my own house. To be honest, it felt like I was screwing my dad over here, but what he wouldn't know wouldn't hurt him I guess.

"Thank you, really - you have no idea how horrible it is sleeping outside in the cold without even a tent or sleeping bag." He said to me, I was beginning to doze off into a sleep, but I did hear him say one more thing. "Also, thanks for treating me like a person, not an animal, or as a freak of nature. I'm truly grateful." I thoughtfully smiled as I closed my eyes and heard his voice.

"Does that make up for the life debt I owe you?" I asked, as a sort of strange joke.

"Yes it did Floyd." He said and chuckled. "I guess this is goodnight then." I couldn't tell what he was doing, since by now, I was in a deep sleep. Since I felt utterly wasted and knackered, It took me just a minute to drift into a pleasant sleep. I thought nothing off what I was doing for some reason. I guess a decent amount of alcohol will make anyone do anything.

I woke up unusually early for my standards - it was only ten in the morning, which is about three hours earlier than usual for me. Mind, I was a bit of a night owl since I was preparing to work night shifts as a cleaner in the local Tesco – the pay was a good bit higher during night times, so I chose to deal with the night shifts in favour for extra money. I remembered earlier during my sleep about the most deranged dream about almost being killed by some houndours and a houndoom and having my life saved by a talking grovyle - I sure dream up some weird shit when I'm drunk. I somewhat chuckled at it, but then I smelled something – smelled just like eggs – did my dad return prematurely from his holiday? I walked into the kitchen, following the smell and then realised that the 'dream' I had really happened.

"Morning Floyd - thought I'd make us some breakfast. Don't worry, I know fine how to make fried eggs." Grovyle said to me cheerily. I stared at him for a second, and he gave me an odd look. "What, you don't like eggs?"

"...I...thought all that was a dream though...I mean, when I woke up, I thought...well...I guess I should thank you for saving my life, and the eggs for that matter." I was rather on edge at this moment - I mean, he was friendly, but it was all just so very, very strange. He brought the fried eggs on a plate for each of us and we both sat down at the table. I saw Grovyle politely eat his fried egg with a fork, and he looked very happy to do so

"Ah, so much better than eating berries and all that jazz in the wild, eh?" He said to me. He looked so comfortable here, but he couldn't stay. I might as well tell him blunt now instead of beating about the bush. Dialga always said that blunt honesty was usually the best way, and I always had trust in my lord's judgement.

"You do realise you cannae stay here, right?" I said. "I mean, this isn't my home to begin with."

"Of course..." He said, his smile fading ever so slightly. "I just wanted to experience the creature comforts of staying the night of an expertly built human house, just for one night." he said to me, and continued eating his eggs, much like I was doing. They were just very slightly undercooked, but still very good for Grovyle's first real attempt at cooking something and concluded that he must have done a lot of peeping of other humans to find out how to do it.. My phone suddenly rang sharply in my pocket to which I promptly answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey Floyd, Omar here! I know this is terribly short notice, but do you think you can come to the usual place for a practice at twelve o'clock? Douglas and Scott can make it and getting Hamish to come can be a pain, so don't pass it up man!" I paused for a second - practices were usually planned a few days in advance, but I had nothing on for the earlier parts of the afternoon.

"Yea, I can make it. I crashed at my dads, so I'll need to get my bass from the other side of the city, but I'll be there in time, see you then Omar." I decided not to tell him about the bloodthirsty hunters or Grovyle as I didn't feel all that comfortable about sharing such information for some reason being such a huge event that was still throwing me through a bit of a loop. I would really have to leave now to make it there in time, and I was devoted to my band 'The Kyogre Is Dead.' Playing bass with them was always great fun, and I would be willing to shunt aside great events to jam and perform with them if they wanted to.

"Well, Grovyle, I need to go and play in my band now...you're going to have to leave now, sorry. Seems like Omar is going to play guitar for the next few hours, then no doubt go back to training his dratini, haha!" I said to Grovyle, and exhaled. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. Admittedly, I felt bad - he did save my life after all, but it wasn't even my house.

"Oh, I see...Well, see you soon then." He said and I opened the door for him, and followed him out. "Maybe, we'll see each other again, huh. Have fun with Omar and the others." He ran off back into the forest. On the way back to my flat, my mind buzzed with what just happened. He may have saved my life, but it doesn't change the fact that I know jack shit about him. I mean, could I really trust him? Befriending pokemon was treading into unknown waters for me - what if we got into a heated argument? I saw how dangerous he could be; if he was to turn violent on me...It would be bad, real band. I shuddered thinking about it on the bus home.

As I returned home, I immediately picked up my bass, and gave it a quick noodle around on. All five strings on it were working just fine, and I smiled at it as I put it carefully in my bag; it was my most prized possession. When I arrived at the practice, I honestly didn't think much of Grovyle, since I had to focus far more on playing the hard as nail riffs the band threw at me - dear fuck, they were a nightmare to play. Omar and Douglas simply outclassed me as musicians, or at least it's how I felt given the way Omar writes the songs.

Only after I got home after the practice did Grovyle cross my mind again. This time, it was in a more positive light - befriending him could make me a better Dialgan, which was always a good thing in my eyes, and the eyes of Lord Dialga himself. Besides, I could actually have a proper conversation with him, and I was perhaps seeing that perhaps one of the reasons why I distanced myself from pokemon in general was their inability to speak English. Even then, there was no guarantee I'd ever see him again, but I suspected he could find me if he really wanted to speak to me again

A few days had past since the day, and as per usual Saturday afternoon, Omar phoned me. He was always nice to me and far more laid back with things in general, often telling me to calm down and relax when I get stuffy over things be them trivial or serious. Perhaps the cool weather of Scotland chilled him out given he only moved here last year from the blisteringly hot city of Dubai.

"Hey Floyd, I'm just about to book another practice. Would Wednesday two to five suit you?" He asked me after ten minutes of pleasantries and idle banter.

"Absolutely - I don't start work 'til 11 now. Starting my night shift at Tesco - guess I'll be getting dinner then going to work this time."

"OK, and by the way Floyd, when I was training my dratini..." I hid a sigh here - he always talked about training his damn pokemon, and I just didn't have it in me to say I really wasn't interested to know, but that's what friends are for. In return, I probably bored him with my philosophy lectures, so I guess it balanced it out. As for speaking about my faith, we agreed to just not bring it up to avoid arguments since he was an atheist, but at least he wasn't being actively mislead by any false religion and in spite of different religious and moral beliefs, I considered him my best friend.

"I came across this Grovyle, and damn, it was an godly fighter! No chance of hitting it, took down my poor dratini in a single attack!" No way could it have been a wild one to fight with such deadly efficiency, so I'm guessing it ran away or got released by some top trainer or some shit like that. By far the most powerful wild pokemon I had ever came across, and even I was shitting myself, haha!" I raised my eyebrows – was it the grovyle I 'befriended' a few days ago? He was a very dangerous fighter, and Omar also described this grovyle as being utterly deadly. It didn't seem like a coincidence, since I knew that the grovyle I met definitely functioned outside of instinct.

"Interesting, Omar, you having fun with the training then, you seem like quite the enthusiast." I said, not really being sure what to say as I had already forgotten any distinctive physical features from the Grovyle I met to ask him if it was him or not.

"That I am Floyd! You should get into it too man - it's a fun experience, really!" He said to me, the enthusiasm in his voice not waning one it.

"Nah, I really don't think It'd be for me at all to be honest. Not comfortable around pokemon and I don't really think it's right per se. I won't protest against it mind, I'm not that anal about the whole training thing." I responded.

"Whatever you say, see you at practice, bye dude!" He said and hung up. It was very interesting that he may have also encountered Grovyle, but I didn't have time to think about that right now as I got phoned in by other friends nagging me to gave a couple of games of League of Legends before I head off to bed.

"Right, I'm here, I'm here...yeah, Taric support as per usual." I said down the headset, half zoned in, half zoned out. I enjoyed the game to be sure, but the amount of times my friends wanted me to play was really starting to suck the joy out of the game for me, but two clean victories in a row like we just managed often managed to get me to change my mind for the rest of the day.

Game three started when I heard a distracting knock on my window, which I initially thought nothing of given I was too focused on keeping my friends alive in the game. A second knock was enough to lure my attention away from the screen this time – someone had to be there. I was confused how someone could knock from five floors off the ground, and guessed some stalker climbed a tree or was throwing stones at my window, and I wasn't happy with either.

"OK, guild, some creep's knocking my window for some reason, I'll be right back." I said to them and put down my headset before they could protest and looked outside. Indeed, it was none other than Grovyle, giving me a very friendly smile on his muzzle.

"Hey...you couldn't let me in, could you?" He said to me very casually, especially for his position. I guess he still had a lot to learn about human behaviour.

"Sure..." I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. Seeing him at the window was surprising, but what was more surprising was the fact he was able to track me down – I guess my thoughts about him finding me again weren't as silly as I thought after all! I opened the window, and asked the obvious question before actually letting him in.

"Err...were you stalking me?! Like, how the hell did you find out where I live?"

"I believe I had an encounter with this 'Omar' who you spoke of, and his dratini. Obviously, his dratini stood no chance, don't mean to brag, and I asked the dratini afterwards if it knew where 'a tall man called Floyd with slightly long hair and a beard' lived, and she told me exactly where. Apparently Omar took her to visit you once and that you were outright scared of her" He said and chuckled slightly. I was a bit disgruntled by how he tracked me down like this, but he still seemed like a good person, so I wasn't going to complain.

"Er, major shit here, extreme apologies and stuff." I said flatly into my headset before muting the sound to speak to Grovyle. He seemed rather pale compared to most grovyles, possibly because they're rarely found in the UK, and more rarely still this far north. "So what brings you here anyway?"

"Just for a chat – havn't been able to have an intelligent conversation with anyone else since after we last saw each other. It's always 'Oh my god, a talking pokemon! AAHH!'" Grovyle said with an amusing impersonation of highly surprised people when he sows his English speaking talents.

"Well, uh...how are you doing?" I smiled awkwardly, as I really wanted to pester him of how he could speak a human language and I didn't really know what to say aside from that. "Uhh...do you drink coffee? Would you like to try one?" I had no idea if it was healthy for him, but I'm sure he'd just spit it out if it was poisonous or anything. He seemed to have good judgement with these things.

"Yes please, I'd love to try some actually." He said as I quickly made some for us while also thinking of a way to rephrase the 'how can you speak English' question.

"So, Grovyle, when did you get interested in the human culture?" I asked him, thinking he'd be happier explaining that.

"Oh, back when I was nine years old as a treeko. I just wasn't satisfied with the animistic ways of life, and I became fascinated in the cars that humans drive from the roads that were right next to the trees in which my family lived in. I envied them, and wanted to know more about them and pretty much dedicated the next ten years of my life to learn English in hopes to communicate with them, always listening while behind cover to pick up bits and pieces of the language. You can probably guess their initial reactions to when I tried to speak to them initially." He sighed sadly at that moment.

"I feared that I would not be treated as a human by them. I'm not human, but I really wish to be treated like one...is that a silly thing to want? You're really the first to do so to me, so I thank you deeply for that."

"Think nothing of it. After all, you did save my life - if it weren't for you, there wouldn't be a me! Anyway, how's the coffee?"

"As good as I imagined coffee would be." He said back to me. We must have talked throughout half the night, laughing and exchanging past experiences throughout our lives with each other, not once glancing at the clock in my room, and he was really growing on me as a person I could get along with. Dare I say, I was looking forward to seeing a pokemon again, but perhaps it was only because he seemed more like a person to me.

"Hey, Floyd, I have kind of wanted to ask you something..." He said, looking a bit shy.

"Go ahead..." I said, eyeing him curiously. Grovyle inhaled deeply, as if he was gathering the courage to speak.

"...Can I stay with you?" He asked. I was rather taken aback by this, but thinking for a short while about his situation, I came to my conclusion.

"Uh...ok, you did save my life, it's the least I could do really..." And then I was interrupted.

"No, I mean, would you let me stay, even If I didn't save your life?" He asked me. I really didn't know how to respond to this, but I smiled and said simply.

"You can stay, but I'll be wanting something in return - there'll be ground rules and golden rules to follow, and more rules on top of that if you're staying in my place." I said, and smiled deviously in a joking and friendly way. Little did I know, that this pokemon right here, would very quickly become just as good a friend as Omar was, and we'd do some extraordinary things together, and really help us discover more about ourselves. More so, I would consider it the start of many great and terrible things to happen to me. Of course, I was oblivious to all this, but I would find out eventually, and when I would, it would turn my world inside out.


	2. A Day In The Life

Pokemon: The Unknown Continuum: Scenes From A Memory

Chapter 2: A day in the life

The alarm beside my bed made it's usual bizarre R2-D2 bleeps and bloops loudly, as if it was saying to me 'get up you lazy piece of shit! It's eleven o'clock, and you only set me because you would sleep until two in the afternoon if you didn't!', and yet, it wasn't enough to get me out of bed just yet. I swung my arm over to hit the snooze button, but accidentally knocked my copy of the novel "Through the Dimensions" when I did so. The novel was very controversial, as it did suggest a lot of positive things about the Giratinan's faiths and of Giratina himself. Matter of fact, although it was written almost 130 years ago, it was only legally published about twenty years back, due to the first great step in a law that passed in the UK, limiting the powers of the Church of Arceus.

The book was actually pretty damn read so far, and while I felt guilty, almost sinful for reading and enjoying it, it wasn't harming me. I'm sure Dialga wouldn't mind much, reading a story of an adventure of two middle class gentlemen and an Amazonian tribesman a few years before the first world war accidental passing through a gate into the so-called pokemon world. According to the novel and the twisted Giratinan doctrine, this was where Arceus made the pokemon and intended them to be separate from humans, but a flux about half a million years ago caused a lot of pokemon to enter the human world, and is often cited as 'the great failure' by Giratina's followers oddly enough, and about how Giratina was actually quite sloppy with keeping the dimensions stable.

The basis of their faith is that humans should try and separate themselves from pokemon so that Giratina could bring all the pokemon back to their own world safely. But it's not like this other world existed anyway! 'Through the Dimensions?' Great piece of adventure fiction minus the influence from that blasted cult – all this talk of 'another dimension' was pulled out of their own arses. The authors, of which there were three of them working on it, all jokingly said it was 'based of true experiences.' Well, one seemed like he was being serious, and found himself in a mental institute soon after the book was finished. I made another grab from my angry alarm clock and hit the snooze button - could I be assed getting out of bed right now? Nah, maybe in a few minutes...

The alarm sounded again, of which I responded very quickly and hit the snooze button again vigorously. I guess it was time to get up, but it felt like a mammoth effort to push myself off the bed - it felt ever so comfy, so much so, that I felt as though many hands were holding me gently down on the bed. In fact, stuff it - I'll set my alarm for another half an hour...

"You not getting up buddy?" A voice said from outside the door. It was Grovyle, who moved in with me a few months ago after he saved my life from a small pack of bloodthirsty pokemon. I inhaled slightly at the one with a little more sense than me when waking up. After all, it was about time him and I got to work.

"In a sec, bud." I said, groaning as I pushed the covers off me. "We're going out to make some money this afternoon, I hope you've warmed up for it while I was sleeping." I hauled myself out of bed with all my willpower and started putting on my clothes. Grovyle and I made money through a form of gambling that we had devised which was also a way for Grovyle to help pay for some of the rent and a whole lot more on top of it. What Grovyle would do is act like a wild pokemon (Which he technically still was since I'm not his registered owner – if I was, I'd be a horrible Dialgan for indulging in trickery), and I would approach trainers, betting sums of money that the trainer would not be able to beat him with one pokemon.

Bets usually went for about ten to twenty pounds, but I have had a couple of people bet fifty before. Grovyle always won except on a couple of occasions due to his tactics and peak physical condition. His tactic was to listen to what the trainer commanded the pokemon to do and act accordingly, because to him, it was a forewarning, which actually made trained pokemon a lot easier to fight than wild ones. I was questioned a couple of times on whether Grovyle was wild or not, but I never gave any commands or assistance to Grovyle so at the end of each bet, they didn't seem overly suspicious since it was very unfashionable for trainers to let the pokemon decide what to do. I had no intention of becoming a trainer in spite of Omar's constant advice and Grovyle was very grateful for it.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go. You getting breakfast and a shower?" He asked, still outside of my room.

"Screw the shower, can't be bothered right now. I'm getting breakfast though, I'm not going outside hungry." I replied as I walked into the kitchen. We had a small three room flat which consisted of my bedroom, bathroom, and a kitchen/living space, and it suited us very well with a sense of warmness to the small rooms but living by ourselves, it was only through the extra gambling that we could afford it. We did rake in on average about a hundred and fifty pounds per trip, but nowadays we had to go further afield to avoid bumping into the same people and arousing suspicion. I had a reasonably sized breakfast – plain cereal, toast and a smoothie - a nice start to this Saturday. Barely any Arceists work on Saturdays, so much to the extent that they occasionally frown upon people who do. Those stupid Arceus worshippers ruining everything, but this meant that a lot of people trained their pokemon on Saturdays, so in hindsight, it probably caused us to earn more cash. I wouldn't have minded popping down to the corner shop to get a bottle of Irn Bru before we headed to the forests and fields just outside of Edinburgh where a lot of training takes place, but I would make do with the coke bottle in the fridge, and some pre-made chicken mayonnaise sandwiches.

Grovyle continued to do his stretches and other warm ups while I ate. Thankfully, he was enthusiastic about this business considering I end up buying some stuff for him as a reward for helping me get almost double my usual weekly income. After I had finished I walked casually outside the front door while Grovyle left through an open window to the side and would sneak into the forest without being seen - if I was seen with him, my betting project could collapse, and there was no chance I'd let that happen. It wasn't far off from beautiful summers day - nice breeze, sun not too hot, and a few small puffy clouds in the sky - ideal for me, and generally pleasant training conditions, which meant more money for me. It seemed like things couldn't be much better as I walked outside, and let myself be bathed in the fresh air.

It was an uneventful walk there, the birds chirping away happily in the trees, or at least they sounded happy – I had no way to tell come to think of it. The regular birds obviously fitted a different environmental niche to the bird pokemon, or they'd just get driven to extinction by those wild sky warriors that not even I would make direct eye contact with. They always ignored me however, which was fortunate as I always imagined they could make a real life version of Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds' if they really wanted to, but they seemed to have no intentions to do so, and we seemed to co-exist just fine. Upon arriving at the unofficial training field, I had discovered a goldmine of trainers – tonnes of them! A shit-load of trainers meant a shit-load of money to be made! I heard a rustle behind me inside one of the trees, and I looked round to see Grovyle, signalling that he was ready to kick some ass.

I set my sights on a confident looking trainer training his blaziken, and I didn't want to get on the wrong side of that giant chicken. This giant martial arts rooster may have seemed like a bad choice, given the fact that it's fast and can use some fiery attacks, but I was confident that Grovyle could handle it and it didn't look that tough for a blaziken anyway. I listened into what the trainer was saying, and it sounded like it had just evolved very recently. This was ideal - such a trainer would receive a huge confidence boost when his pokemon would evolve, and would probably accept my offer. He looked well off as well with all the designer clothing – this was just perfect. I signalled to Grovyle that it was the trainer with the blaziken would be our next target, and Grovyle raced gracefully through the treetops so quickly, that it was quite hard to see. I walked up and approached the trainer slowly with a calm smile to warm him up to my offer.

"Hello there!" I said with a thicker Scottish accent than usual, and he turned to look at me.

"Oh, hello." He said, not sounding as posh as I would have guessed. "Are you a trainer here as well?" He said, and the blaziken seemed to jump to the conclusion that I was and looked ready to fight. I confess, I got slightly scared and took a couple of steps back, but stopped to clear my breath.

"Nonono, I'm not, but I have seen that wild Grovyle fight before, and I was amazed." I said, pointing to my friend in the trees, who was purposefully moving a bit more sluggish than usual, but not suspiciously so to try and lure him into accepting the bet. "Twenty quid says you can't beat it with that blaziken of yours, and if he doesn't win, you give me twenty. Sound good to you?" The trainer seemed amused as I showed him the twenty pound note that I brought out of my pocket.

"How about fifty?" He asked, showing me two twenty pound notes and a tenner. "Makes things more interesting, and I could use the pressure as well as the money. If you have fifty quid of your own that you'd be willing to risk, that is..." I smiled slightly - this was excellent!

"...Yer on!" I said, hiding my confidence, as I sat down to watch. Both the trainer and the blaziken turned to face Grovyle, and Grovyle looked back at them with narrowed eyes, and even an animalistic wild pokemon could tell that they wanted to battle. Grovyle's eyes were fixed on the blaziken, but his ears on the trainer and, predictably, like almost every other trainer, yelled the commands far louder than necessary.

"Flamethrower it out of the tree!" He said loudly, but that was all that Grovyle needed to hear, and already got off the branch he was in before the blaziken could even wind up for it's attack. With impressive agility and dexterity, he kicked himself away from the tree trunk as he fell from the tree branch, went straight underneath the flames and viciously cut the blaziken's chest with his sword-like leaves. Grovyle was not one to give the opponent a chance to strike and continued to slash it's opponent fiercely and relentlessly. The trainer looked baffled at how fast Grovyle was, but nor he or the blaziken was out yet.

"Overheat! It's your only chance!" The trainer yelled, and Grovyle once again acted accordingly and immediately stopped attacking him and ran a good distance away, moving so quickly that it wasn't too different from seeing something flying just over the ground. I watched from the distance as flames erupted and emitted from the blaziken, but to no effect - Grovyle didn't receive a singe as he was too far away. He responded immediately to the exhaustion brought upon by it's opponent to prepare an energy ball in both of his hands, and threw all the energy he gathered in his hands right at the blaziken. However, things were not going to be that simple. In a seemingly shared moment of desperation from both the trainer and pokemon alike, the blaziken ducked and avoided the attack as commanded by the trainer.

"I'm not about to lose fifty quid here! There's a weeks supply of your favourite food if you beat him! how does Kerry's sound? Do it now!" He yelled. I had no idea what 'it' was going to be and neither did Grovyle, but the trainer and his pokemon seemed to know. From what I could see, one of the blaziken's legs seemed to be on fire and was charging towards Grovyle, and even I could tell it would be a fiery kick. Grovyle could obviously see this coming, but that was when the unexpected happened. It suddenly blew flames out of it's mouth instead, and this was Grovyle's vulnerability – without the trainer giving obvious commands, he could not react and adjust nearly as well, and he just managed to dodge the flames by jumping above them, but the blaziken leaped at him and his it square on with a fiery kick. I wasn't too close to the fighting, but it looked very painful as Grovyle got knocked back several meters screaming in pain, and I had to restrain myself from looking like I had a personal attachment to Grovyle. I couldn't let anyone find out that me and him were friends, or people could get suspicious and I would be ruined. It seemed like the attack had almost finished Grovyle, as he didn't look to steady on his feet, and his chest looked ever so slightly burnt. However, the blaziken looked like it was about to pass out from sheer exhaustion as well.

"Ok, end this quickly, quick attack!" The trainer yelled, but as for most occasions, Grovyle knew what was coming, and reacted accordingly once more. He seemed to swipe the air, sending out a furious flurry of sharp leaves at the rapidly approaching blaziken, but he didn't hit it square on – he wasn't intending to. He aimed for his legs. Instead and it was enough to make it fall over, and grovyle jumped on top of it and finishing the job with a point blank energy blast, clearly not in the mood to miss this time. He had won, though not as cleanly as he had hoped by the look of things. Smugly, I walked over to the trainer with a wide grin on my face alongside an exaggerated relaxed walk.

"Fifty, please!" I said, grinning and holding out my hand. I couldn't resist being up myself about it; I did just win fifty pounds after all. The trainer looked perplexed as he handed it over.

"...It was like he could predict it's every move...and for a wild pokemon...?" He said, shaking his head, trying to help the blaziken up. "Ah, there wasn't much more you could have done. I'm still proud of what you did." He said to the blaziken and sadly shook his head. At least he wasn't angry at his pokemon. I went back into the small patch of trees just outside of the field to meet up with Grovyle again.

"Ow...how much did you win?" He said to me, holding his injured chest, and breathing rather heavily. I smiled at him.

"Well, it was all worthwhile - fifty pounds! I hope you're feeling up for more!" I said back to him, grinning, and waving the notes at him, and he smiled back. Indeed, we carried on in this fashion for the next couple of hours, raking in a total of two hundred pounds, making money out of many poor unsuspecting trainers. Truth be told, I never personally studied the differences between your flamethrowers and whatever the other attacks were called by the trainers, but Grovyle obviously done his homework with this pokemon trainer lingo stuff. After a while, Grovyle was starting to get a bit existed, in spite of his terrific stamina against exhaustion, and we returned home, making sure to go separate ways again. I did intend to slither more money out of people this way in the future - It was a lot of money with just me acting innocent. Oh, and Grovyle getting in some fights, but he claimed he enjoyed doing it. He insisted it helped keep in in shape, so I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for it if he wanted to do this business with me.

My mind gently wandered towards society as a whole since Grovyle was away, making sure not to be seen with me. I always found it strange how humans, unlike any other mammals who kept themselves in small groups, settled in such huge numbers together. Granted, I had no real problem with this as I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of too many people knowing me. On a further good note, I could really pick and choose what groups I wanted to associate myself with, most commonly fellow Dialgans at the church every Sunday evening where I'd socialise with them until the service at midnight. It sure felt good being with people that I knew were morally sound. However, the downside to all this was that I had to put up with the nearby existence of less favourable groups, Palkians being one of them, even if they were pretty harmless. Seeing one of their shabby excuses for a temple which blended in so well with the borderline rundown buildings that this rough part of the city made the whole place seem rougher. Their doctrine was that of self-loathing, yet they'll happily worship anything else that isn't human with Palkia obviously coming first, and on top of all that, they have the daftest spirituality crap on this planet. They actually believe that their god would reincarnate them as their 'soul pokemon' for a second chance at life, and thinking about that almost made them too stupid to dislike them, not to mention they didn't seem to be pushy about the whole thing. Sadly, the same cannot be said for the Arceists out there.

The church of Arceus was practically omnipresent, suckering in about eighty percent of the entire UK, with many other western European countries and the USA being even more devoted to this false religion, and as you might expect, this bullshit has quite a lot of influence on the legal system. Even civilized countries such as this one was undermined by theocracy about fifty years ago, and while we are on the road to recovery, we still have quite a way to go yet to expunge its influence in our laws. Working on Saturday only became legal just over twenty years ago! Perhaps they would eventually see truth in the religion of truth, for only Dialga offers a solid, sound moral code and no false offers of any afterlife, and the only religion that knows that turning the other cheek is just not practical. If someone wrongs you, my advice as a Dialgan would be to get vengeance, but as long is the vengeance you carry out is less painful than the wrong inflicted on you. Dialga is my shepherd in the highest realms, and what he says is right and truthful unquestionably! Only he truly knows what's best for me and the rest of my species, and that is to not try to bribe us with false promises of an afterlife of some kind, since he actually respects mankind for what it's worth!

As I walked past one of the many well built and historic Arceus churches, with it's tall spires and lavish looking doorways, I saw two priests outside it chatting away to each other, most likely discussing on how next to brainwash children into following their twisted faith. I recognized the priest on the right, the man my father one time got into a pub brawl fight. Good for my dad, breaking his nose with a good elbow to his face, but it was still rather embarrassing seeing two people in their low fifties fighting in a pub like they did. The priest noticed me, and shot me a scowl - he knew I was the High Priest's son, and he hated me for that reason alone. I flipped him off several times ever since the pub incident, and I had no regrets about it about doing it, or doing it again I grinned and slowly gave him an immature middle finger. My father told me to just not bother with them, but I honestly found it really hard to resist. I decided to stop annoying him since my dad did have a point about not antagonizing them too much since my behaviour could be used against me and could incite possible threats or even actions of violence from some of the younger and physically fitter Arceists.

I saw the sun shine on the tall skyscrapers behind me, watching the golden shimmer on their sides, giving a somewhat steam-punk vibe from my angle. It was a strange case or urban beauty, seeing the glass reflect the sunlight in mystifying and beautiful ways. After another short while, I eventually arrived home. I stretched my arms upwards feeling the mussel inside me stretch as I walked inside.

"Took your sweet time!" Grovyle said, sitting on the couch, grinning at me. "And I ought to punish you for this!" He chuckled and suddenly leaped at me, arms out-stretched. Grovyle did this frequently to me, as he wrapped his arms around me in a caring hug. I was never a touchy person, and I really did not like physical affection from anyone.

"Grovyle...let...go. Please" I said, inhaling through my teeth in frustration. He knew damn well I didn't like it much, but I can't say I really expected him to stop doing so. He did however let go then, and I sat down to get myself a large can of Relentless energy drink, and mixed it with some Captain Morgan's dark rum - my favourite! The best thing about this drink is that no one else liked it - I'd never feel the need to share it! Grovyle had come to an outright stop on alcohol lectures, so I thankfully didn't have to put up with the complaining he did for a couple of months after I agreed to let him live here. There was nothing much on TV, except songs of praise. Too bad they were directed at a god who created the universe but never gave a damn for it afterwards. It was a nice place to stay though, small and comfortable. A bedroom for myself with a computer inside it for my own use, a living area with a kitchen in it where Grovyle slept, and a bathroom, obviously. I also had a gig to play this evening, and a church service to attend to after that which had to be rescheduled for today due to my father going on a school trip since he was one of the teachers at Tynecastle High School from Sunday until Friday. Unlike a lot of people, my Saturday's were usually quite busy, even if I never have to work at the supermarket on these days. I knew I couldn't slouch around all afternoon, as I needed to practice for the upcoming gig. I grabbed my six string bass, which had served me well for a good while now, and tuned it up. Grovyle however was in a very chatty mood, and I really couldn't have many distractions.

"Ooh, what's that you're playing?" He said after talking away about the events earlier today which I could barely manage more than a grunt in return to each sentence he said to me.

"Look, buddy, I'm going to have to practice the set list solidly with no distractions - you mind keeping things quiet for the next hour or going outside for a bit." I said to him, finally stopping my playing to give him some actual words while trying to sound as kind as possible. He nodded and understood and jumped out the window to get some sunlight. My friend was slightly paler than a lot of grovyles you see, most likely because they are rarely found this far north, with them being in most abundance in rain forests, and yet some had adapted to live in less humid places. Wild grovyles in the UK were usually a bit stockier since they relied more on hunting than absorbing sunlight, of which was of less importance in this shadier part of the world where the sunlight was not as focused. My friend was no exception to this, although he rarely hunted these days, acquiring a more complex taste for things such as food I brought home from the supermarket. In hindsight, I always wondered why he never bothered referring himself by an actual name. I decided to ask him that whenever he decided to return, which was surprisingly quickly, as he jumped through the open window again.

"Sorry, I'm just getting a glass of water before I..." He said, but then I couldn't help myself but ask him.

"I was wondering, actually...you don't have an actual name, do you?" I said, and he gave me look, as if to say 'you're asking me this?' He paused for about ten seconds, and then said very slowly.

"...No. I don't. I was never given a name at birth." He said, sounding slightly sad, but not sounding like it was that big of a deal to him.

"Very well. Look, it just sounds strange always calling you by the name of your species. Can you just give yourself a name, or can I even give you a name?" I asked in a friendly manner, and yet, the response was not what I wanted.

"No." he said flatly. "It would be far too odd, over all nineteen years of my life of not having an actual name, to start having one at this stage. Please try to understand." I was rather taken aback by this - It almost felt to me like he didn't care about his identity, but I understood his reasons.

"...Fair enough..." I said half heatedly, and let him get his water which he very quickly drank in one go and put the glass down on the windowsill.

"Far better than river water, eh?" He said, to me and smiled and jumped out of the window once more. It was now finally time for practice, of where I shut everything else in the world out except for me, my bass, and the robotic midi recording of our band's songs. My eyes were fixed on my fretboard for that entire hour, concentrating as hard as I could on the viciously complex and fast riffs that Omar loved to create. Even when my very low clean backing vocals were due, my eyes never peeled from the fretboard, but even that was a bit unnecessary - it wasn't hard stuff all the time. My fingers would usually be aching by this point, but this practice run-through was almost too good. - I'd never be able to play it with the same amount of accuracy on the stage, but to be fair, it was probably my best run though of a set list so far. I wiggled my fingers to loosen off and walked into the bedroom to change. There are people who think it's actually important for the singers and bands to look pretty, and I totally agreed with them, at least to an extent. I knew there was a visual element to live shows, coming down to how I dressed and more importantly, how I acted on stage, and I had a very good stage presence that wasn't too over the top, or at least I liked to tell myself that. Grovyle wasn't back yet, so I packed up my bass and effect pedal, and sat on the couch to wait. It was only ever half an hour before I left to play the gig which felt nerve-wracking, given I was just left with thoughts of 'you'd better not fuck up!'.

I left the TV off and simply sat in complete silence and no distractions. I sat with my fingertips against the side of my head trying to mentally prepare for it, and to quickly run through in my mind of what would happen - drive there, get a quick burger, go in, get set up and play. I guess it shouldn't be too hard, and I would get over the feeling of uncertainty just as easily as they came. I slowly looked up from my lap and at the mirror in front of me, just above the desk, which also served as a makeshift small prayer shrine to Dialga due to some small additions I made to it to replicate an actual one as best I could. It was just covered in cloth with the Dialgan insignia; an octagon with six different sized spokes coming out of it with a circle inside it all. A couple of ceremonial goblets lay either side, only ever drunk out of during the 22nd of December, the start of the Dialgan year.

In the mirror just above the alter sat a fairly tall young man just over six foot tall, but didn't have much bulk to back it up, but nor was he completely scrawny. Uncombed and untidy brown hair flowed down in random patterns from the top of his head, almost reaching the shoulders and covering his rather large ears as if it was guided by a very drunk mountaineer leading his crew down the mountain in inconvenient ways. The beard was lightly darker than the hair, it was far more organised and orderly as it received a trim now and then, but never, ever a full shave to keep it encircling the mouth, but never up the sides of the chin for too long. Looking in the mirror, I knew I would look naked without one, though that was probably because I was so used to having the beard over the last couple of years. The man in the mirror didn't look to friendly or welcoming but he didn't have an aggressive appearance and looked fairly approachable, nor did he look like he had much to hide, but this was likely due to Dialga's wisdom for he'd have been a very secretive man without it. People often said I looked like a male version of my mother which bothered me in a weird way, as if people were appealing to the 'you look just like your insert parent here' cliché which generally irritated me. One of the stranger things about myself is that I did eat quite frequently, and yet I was neither muscular or flabby. Up until passing my driving test a few weeks ago however, I spent a lot of time chasing buses here there and everywhere, which probably kept me fit and healthy in the process but I was beginning to wonder how long that would last.

"You OK Floyd?" Someone said from behind - Grovyle must have came back quietly.

"Wuh! Y-yeah!" I said in surprise, not noticing the pokemon coming up from behind. "Just thinking about the gig and stuff and on that note. Don't trash the place or eat too much stuff in the fridge when I'm gone, and this includes while I'm attending tonight's church service." I said, making eye contact, trying to sound serious but friendly at the same time. A Dialgan service usually takes place on midnight on Sunday, or Monday, if you want to be a smart-ass, in order to celebrate the existence of a new fresh week that Dialga has provided mankind, the pokemon, the animals, plants and the entirety of existence with, and the service lasts about one to two hours. This often meant that only the more loyal Dialgans such as myself regularly attend the weekly services, since the lesser ones claim that it interferes with their life too much. Excuses...

"Oh, sure thing. Are going to be OK for the lack of sleep you've been getting for our hiking trip next week? I mean, you stay up to like, three in the morning consistently." He said, trying to offer me another lecture, but, even though I knew he was right, I could never bring myself to get to bed at a reasonable time. "You will be safe, won't you?"

"Yes, don't worry." I said, giving a rather awkward smile. Ever since we met in that small patch of forest, he was always quite protective over me, but I can't blame him too much for it considering I almost died on our first encounter with each other, but surely that was a blue moon event! In that respect, I almost felt a bit guilty - he did seem to treat me better than I treated him, as if our friendship was very slightly unbalanced. The phone buzzed on my sofa quite loudly, almost startling me.

"Hello?" I said hastily as I picked up the phone "Who is this?"

"Omar!" He said in his usual cheery voice. "Got your stuff packed for the gig? Come on down!" I hung up then, not wanting to waste his time - again, something Dialgans avoid if possible. Lost time cannot be recovered, after all.

"Hello, Omar..." I said as I opened the door at the tower block floor door, but what caught my eye was not his cheesy grin, but the pokemon behind him.

"Mother...fucker, it evolved!?" I said, pointing at the dragonair right behind him, which seemed to smile at myself acknowledging the fact that it had evolved recently. "Fuck me..."

"Yea, I was thinking that since we can avoid traffic thanks to Miss snuggy wuggums here!" He said, the dragonair showing an expression of both annoyance and amusement, and Omar chuckled, "We can go get a KFC instead of a usual plain burger and stuff." I can honestly say I felt very uncomfortable with flying on the back of a flying pokemon - it didn't even look like it could fly!

"...I'm...just going to take the car instead." I said, not making eye contact with either of them. "...I'll take the alleyway short-cut that's just wide enough for my car to the mid-section motorway - not sure if you're supposed to drive there, but it saved a huge detour that will be clogged with traffic. Dragonair didn't seem to like my idea as it went over and nuzzled me affectionately on the face as if it wanted to take me there personally, but this only discouraged me as I took a step back.

"She's just being friendly man..." Omar said, shaking his head slightly. "I'm telling you it'll be easier, but if you insist on taking the car..." He said, and we got into a brief conversation about trivial matters, but then he said something odd, and stopped making eye contact, looking right past me instead.

"Is that a Grovyle in the entrance hall? What's it doing there? Anyone live here with one?" He said, pointing at him. I looked behind, and indeed, it was my good friend. He inhaled a couple of times before slowly walking up to Omar. I looked at him with a curious glance - he always shyed away from other humans, getting fed up with the comments that generally always amount to 'OMG, you can talk?', but he seemed to be giving other humans another chance from what I could see. He looked nervous, yet assertive at the same time as he inhaled and said:

"Hello, Omar. You might have recognized me from a few months back when we were pokemon training." He said, holding out his hand, and trying to sound more casual. It would seem like he was trying to act more person-like to Omar, in hopes that Omar could relate to him in that aspect. Fortunately, uncanny valley was pretty much non-existent to him, and while there was no hiding his surprise whatsoever, he seemed to warm up to the idea of a talking pokemon quickly, and shook his hand.

"Hey little guy!" He said "...Yea, I remember now, you're that grovyle who wrecked this poor girl some months back! No mistaking it...are you staying with Floyd?" He stroked Dragonair's head as he spoke, Dragonair seeming to enjoy it.

"Yes, I had already seen him before our encounter. Due to an incident involving bloodthirsty houndours and houndooms, we ended up becoming very good friends." Grovyle looked amazed of how casual Omar seemed to be about it, but he did seem to have a way with pokemon, and in spite of his general goofiness, does know how to make good conversation to pretty much anyone at any level. He probably saw that Grovyle wanted to be treated as a person, and he was doing just that. They seemed to get along quite well, as I packed my stuff in the boot of my car.

"Ok, I'll see you at the KFC Omar." I said to Omar as I got inside, and drove off, seeing Grovyle nod happily and walking back inside, and seeing Omar take off on his dragonair as she used her head-wings to fly, looking bizarre and almost unstable to me. I decided to cut through a couple of places I probably shouldn't be driving to hit the motorway quickly since I didn't want to waste too much or Omar's time. The drive was frustrating, the roads occupied with the two worst types of drivers - boy racers, and timid old ladies. The amount of times I lane-switched was unbelievable, and I must have it my horn about 5 times throughout the stressful journey. Perhaps manning up and accepting the free ride on Dragonair's back would have been the better thing to do after all. Eventually, I swung in by the car park, seeing the others already sat inside.

"Hey guys." I said casually as I walked in, giving a slight wave, as I went to order a standard fast meal. I could hear surprisingly little discussion about the upcoming gig from the band as I waited for my order, as the conversation mainly revolved around football. How boring.

"Looking forward for tonight then?" I said, sitting down beside them with my received order, desperately trying to change the mundane subject.

"Oh aye, should be good, anyway, as I was saying about the Man City game earlier..." Scott said, and continued the conversation earlier. It was too bad really, but it hardly stopped me enjoying being with the guys. Omar also tried to shunt the conversation to pokemon training, explaining his interests on south side of the Alps to try and catch a fraxure or pretty much anything he pleases there. Immigration control has become incredibly difficult with people flying high in the sky over the border on pokemon since the advent of pokemon training for both humans and pokemon alike, but try they did anyway, especially in the USA, who are actually in the process of setting up laser detection all around the damn country.

"Nah, I'll get away with it, haha." Omar said and chuckled - he was never one to care too much about the law, and generally went by his own conscious. "And besides, let's say that I do get caught a few months down the line - what if it grows attached to me? There's been countless stories of the law saying 'ah, just forget it' for people bringing foreign pokemon into the landscape, and I'll probably have my foreign and exotic pokemon license by then anyway." He continued to explain, looking confident. Neither me, Scott or Douglas were massively interested, but I had a bit more of an understanding now. Since I'm technically not Grovyle's trainer, I didn't even need a basic licence for him. We continued to munch up our food, then Douglas, who was usually fairly quiet, suddenly spoke.

"You know, I wrote lyrics, recently about those bat-shit insane Giratinists" He said, and he didn't get much room to say anything more before the whole band (except Scott, who didn't feel strongly on the matter) burst into louder conversation.

"Those fuckers would want me and Dragonair to be separated permanently because their imaginary god commanded it!" Omar suddenly said loudly, and I agreed with him on that aspect, which was something I wasn't bothered about until I met Grovyle. Pah, as if separating them so that Giratina can take them back to their supposed original word would be a good idea anyway, which never even existed in the first place, not to mention the atrocities it tried to commit during the world's first stages, even attempting to cause some rips in the dimensions for his own selfish comforts at best and shits and giggles at worst.

"Oh yes, I wish I thought of that earlier Omar." I was the only religious person in the band, which lead us to take an overall anti religious stance as a band, many of our lyrics being critical and damn near abusive about the religious beliefs of others. We mainly focused on the Arceism and it's followers, since it was the biggest and most prominent religion in our society by far. To my silent annoyance, one of our songs 'No Forgiveness' pisses on my own religion and beliefs, and was one of, if not the most popular song among people who saw us play to date. The band did know of my beliefs, but I said to them 'I'm keeping my faith and the band completely separate' - there was no reason for me to be totally resistant, and I did even say to Dialga that I don't believe in the lyrics of that song and I wasn't even singing in it at all. Still, it was hard for me to be totally committed to that song, and I never had much stage presence when playing that song at all, just staying at the back and not moving much rather like a stereotypical bassist. We soon finished off our meals and wandered back to the car park outside. Scott just went in Douglas's car, not being a driver himself, and Omar took off in 'style' on Dragonair. I wondered what the Dragonair thought of being used as transport - it seemed perfectly happy though, but as I found out and explained earlier, Omar seemed to have a way with pokemon. I made sure my bass, pedal and amp were strapped in as if they were my children. Damage to them would really break my heart, to sound soppy and clichéd, but they were my most prized possessions in the end. They did allow me to experience some of life's biggest rushes, of what I was going to experience in about an hour's time.

The roads were thankfully quieter here than before now that it was a bit later, and a bit further from the city centre, and the fact that there were less boy racers around. I was never a very relaxed driver, and while my knuckles weren't too white, they did show a slight lack of colour as my hands gripped the wheel with mild fervour. Fortunately, I was able to park right outside the venue, not wanting to walk for too long with all my heavy equipment. I saw people walk around, the occasional one accompanied by a pokemon, some big, some small. I often did wonder how allowing even a Nidoking to walk in public was allowed, but the laws were as thus - you receive the same punishment as what your pokemon does. If it decides to severely injure someone, then you get charged for severe assault, and have any form of licence to have pokemon taken away indefinitely, so as a result, people letting pokemon out in the city was quite uncommon, especially in crowded places such as Prince's Street, where it was just considered bad manners. Quite a lot of pokemon instinctively liked me, trying to display some kind of affection, much to the amusement of their human friend. Between those ones and the few who instinctively disliked me, shooting me nasty looks or growling aggressively at me, I was never too comfortable when around pokemon. The ones that just left me alone to my own devices I had no problems with, aside from Grovyle of course. Carrying the heavy gear into the venue was difficult, but hardly impossible, hauling it across the road and in through the back entrance of 'Sneaky Pete's', the name of the venue. Omar was already there, and to my rather strong disliking, was having a drink. Last gig, Omar ran right off the stage and accidentally unplugged his guitar because he was that wasted, and I was yet to forgive him for that.

"Omar, have that afterwards." I said sternly at him, not blinking in the eye contact I had made with him. He shrugged and put it on the table. "You damn well know what happened the last time."

"Floyd, it'll be fine - I'm just having two. Relax man!" He said, clearly not being half as uptight as I was. I detested the idea of my band mates drinking before the gigs, and I could always notice subtle performance flaws when they have had a drink or two. I just looked at him and tapped my foot a couple of times before setting up. A couple of people had already arrived, two fairly young guys that were buying drinks, even though they looked ever so slightly under aged. Douglas and Scott arrived shortly afterwards, which seemed to signal more people coming in. I just sat on the stage, just doing final warm ups with the amp turned off to set my mind for the next hour. I couldn't convince Scott and Douglas not to drink either, but the time would come on which there were enough people to at least get started, and fortunately, the others realised and took their place on the stage. My blood started flowing faster, and I was locked in a smile - the rush the few seconds before getting started was one of the most gripping feelings I had ever experienced. I made far more eye contact with the crowd than with the other band mates, and I merely listened for the no-nonsense, brutal guitar intro for out traditional opening song, 'One Way Street'. My grin widened as the rest of the band, including myself kicked in with instruments blaring and it was still great to see that skills like this were well appreciated, a lot of sectors being marginalized by the advent of pokemon training which was beginning to overtake football as the biggest sport on the world. Omar constantly described our music as being 'intense and utterly brutal,' and tried to keep pushing it to the point where I think it was going just a little too far if you ask me. Granted, the crowd seemed to be loving it as the amount of crowd participation was some of the best we had ever seen, even though none of our songs were 'sing along material' whatsoever.

I watched some mosh pits break out, seeing the crowd fling themselves against one another in the most psychotic of pinball I had seen. Each song seemed to get my blood pumping more than the last, and I seemed to like all the other good gigs I played before this, develop a sense of power over the audience. Well, that was more in the hands of Scott who ordered a huge 'wall of death' at the start of 'FAOT: Follow and Obey Thoughtlessly' which was one of our most popular song among the crowds that we played to, but it was like we had about forty people at our very command to do our bidding, almost fitting for the title of the song. My fingers were going red with the blood flowing rapidly though them, rising to the surface of the skin as if even my internal organs were engaged by our music and performance, and helping my fingers flow smoothly. In spite of the aggression in our music, playing bass to it felt like a calm, focused discipline - I guess I could compare it to the stereotypical martial art monks that can meditate for hours on end and then proceed to royally kick your arse, or at least that's how the movie industry would have us believe. Throughout the remainder of the show, I kept wondering if all the anti-religious themes were getting tiresome, and not even because of my own faiths. The gig eventually came to an end with a longer-than-needed extended ending, but the crowd looked happy, the band looked happy, and I was certainly happy with this evening.

"You not staying for some drinking mate?" Omar said, as I hastily packed up my stuff. The Arab often had to look up to me slightly, being slightly smaller than me, but slightly more bulky. His hair was a good deal shorter, and his beard was now reduced to a mere stubble, and I still don't think I had seen him with a band t-shirt where the official band text wasn't illegible in the typical extreme death metal fashion.

"Nah man..." It would have been awkward saying I was going to church straight after our gig, considering our lyrical content, but I was sure Omar knew the reason's anyway.

"Yea..." He said, sounding slightly disappointed. "I guess I'll see you later then. How about Wednesday evening?"

"Sure, sure, I'll be at your place...eight thirty, I finish work at half seven." I said, waved and walked out with my gear, and loaded it back in, and quickly headed off home. I probably could have stayed for a quick pint if I really wanted to, but I was glad I didn't as the rain slowly started to fall, and I'd have trouble protecting my equipment if it got much heavier. The streets started filling ever so slightly with neds, equipped with their tracksuits, trophy girlfriends, cigarettes and bottles of Buckfast - the damn scourge of Scotland. That being said, they were merely an unpleasant sight as long as you don't engage with them most of the time, which made for an uneventful trip home. The rush was still with me from the gig with a great, glowing sense of accomplishment and the good afterglow of a time that you had that was nothing short of fantastic. For me, playing at gigs was probably the thing I enjoyed best in life, and substantially so. To me, nothing was more rewarding than having people be entertained by your own creativity, skill and charisma. Music. I hope it'll be something that will never leave me. I parked my car in the flat car park and headed on up to my flat, hauling my hear with care, using a large towel to protect it from the rain. Upon opening the door, I saw Grovyle sitting on the couch, laughing his ass off to a George Carlin DVD I had bought him for his birthday a month ago. I didn't think much of his viewpoints, but Grovyle seemed to idolise him.

"Oh...hey Floyd...ha! Ha!" He said, trying to divide his attention between me and the TV screen. "The wonders of human technology! How the fuck did I get by for over nineteen years before hand?" He said, looking at me, smiling, and it looked like he was trying to keep steady. This was odd - his balance was usually the cream-of-the-crop, but I soon found out why, and I cringed. An empty can of Manger's cider was found on its side on the floor, and upon picking it up to inspect it, I could smell the drink from Grovyle.

"You've been having my cider!" I said crossly at him. It evidently only took him one can to get him rather sozzled - I guess being half the size of a normal human severely reduced alcohol tolerance.

"And...you drink all the time buddy, hehe!" He said, jumping at me in a hug, nearly missing and crashing into the kitchen worktop. "Just relax, Grovyle's here for ya!" He was more affectionate than usual, but that was hardly surprising, and I can't say that I enjoyed having intoxicated pokemon acting like this in my own house at all.

"I take it you're not going to let go." I said, trying to hide my frustration as best I could, as I noticed he was clinging on rather tightly.

"Nope!" He said, smiling widely and nuzzling the side of my neck. While very bizarre, and definitely crossing the line, I guess it wasn't as perplexing and discomforting as one of my friends called Bobby going to outright kiss me on the cheek, and then threatening to punch me when I told him not to even think about it a couple of years back.

"Grovyle, stop this at once!" I said not wanting to be too rude, but he still wasn't letting go. By now,it was hard to tell whether it was out of affection or just trying not to be in a position to be too ill, but I had no choice but to eventually pry open his strong grip around me. Surprisingly, it required all of my strength to get him to stop hugging me and I set him down on the couch on his side – he was a lot stronger than he looked..

"I'll get an empty bucket, you'll might need it. Even through your reptilian scales, I can see you're going slightly pale - expect to feel ill soon, and for you to still feel ill by the morning." I said in a very upfront, no bullshit manner to him. "Also, I'll get you a couple of glasses of water and a can of Irn Bru for the morning – it helped when I got hangovers and I'm pretty sure you'll have one yourself. I have ten minutes before I have to leave for church - anything you have to say now? Why drink my booze after all those lectures?"

"...I was curious after all this time to see what it was like, and it was indeed as I suspected...a double edged sword." He said, sounding rather weak from it, clearly trying not to get himself even more sick. "I guess I just needed that personal experience." He said, taking the glass of water I had given him. I felt happy for him in a very odd way - he had always wanted to be more in line and like a human, and he was showing more and more human-like traits that he has wanted. I guess most of us experienced similar first drinking experiences like my friend had, so while it may have not been the most pleasant experience for him, it was a step towards humanity in a strange way, or at least in my opinion.

"You'll be OK Grovyle." I said to him as I gathered my car keys and my adherent robes. Obviously I don't run services, but I was given them by the high priest of the Dialgan church of the south-east of Scotland to commemorate my strong faith and good knowledge of the religion. I wear it at the church services to answer some questions of those newer to the faith since the robes signify my knowledge of the Dialgan doctrine. Of course, this caused the church to receive slandering from atheists, Arceists, and pretty much anyone who doesn't follow the word of Dialga, always misinterpreting it as some kind of rank/superiority thing. It's not like we get any special rights or anything, and what buisness is it to them if they don't even follow my faith anyway? I wondered if it was the right thing to leave Grovyle like this, but I didn't really think much of it as I picked up my white robes, which had very faint streaks of blue on it, and waved goodbye to the slightly ill Grovyle.

"See you, then..." He said, being hard to tell if me going to church when he was in that state was causing him unhappiness, or that he just felt ill, but I couldn't bother myself with that - the service would start in half an hour, and I felt that it was my duty to be there, and besides, Grovyle didn't even look that ill anyway. My car served me well as transport as per usual, and all I passed was the odd drunk on the street. The city was now dressed in it's night gear, the sunlight being replaced with thousands of tiny artificial suns that still seemed to fail to disguise the blackened feel of Edinburgh. The grey drizzle made the lights blur slightly as the window wipers worked overtime to keep the windscreen of my car clear. Upon arriving at the church, I saw the usual few Arceist protesters claiming that we spread general hate through our faith. I grinned slightly - it was always fun to fuck with them. The church itself was far from an ancient building as Dialgan churches were forbidden until roughly eighty years ago, but it still looked very dignified for a fairly new building, at least in comparison to the antiqued Arceus churches.

The church was built mainly from red brick, one could say that it looked plain, but the four decorative chimneys was the real wonder, with a different brick-placement style on each one, to symbolise our four main virtues: devotion to Dialga's word, and to follow his moral guidance as close as possible, diligence, to help encourage a healthy work ethic and to not stray from the task of keeping to the righteous text of the book, restraint, to be strong to avoid any form of temptation to stray from his guidance, and justice, to find the right balance between selfishness and selflessness, which many Dialgans believe is simultaneously the hardest one to keep on track with, yet it often perceived as the most important of the four. Four chimneys, spires, or anything similar are built to remind us of these all important virtues we must be sure to hold strongly in our lives. The church was almost exactly square shaped with a curved glass dome on the top, which has caused the high priest some annoyance, since the rain can cause a lot of noise when he's taking the services, forcing him to shout at the worst of times. I quickly put on my adherent robes and got out of the car, not minding the drizzle.

"Misguided one!" I head someone say, coming from the four-man protest, holding signs saying 'your souls are at risk' and 'stop spreading cruel lies that promote wicked behaviour', and I saw a woman, no a mere child pointing right at me - this would be fun. I grinned and strutted rather merrily towards them.

"Were you pointing at me? Didn't your parents ever tell you it was rude to point?" I said, giving him a very derogatory look.

"That's my daughter you know..." A man said sternly next to her. This was getting all the better for me.

"Ah, you're her daddy eh? I wonder what you did to her to make her come out at this time of night. Surely this is bad for her health - she should be resting for school!" I said, wagging my finger in front of him in a very irritating way.

"I see mere children being taken in that bastard excuse for a church." The younger mad said to me, which kind of annoyed me - you trying to expose me for a hypocrite while insulting my faith? I'll show you an insult...

"Well at least my god doesn't offer any false promises of blissful afterlife for those who metaphorically lick his cock and threaten to torture those for eternity who don't. Why, I don't even hear any mention of being truthful being important in your sorry excuse for a holy book. Try worshipping a god that hasn't abandoned us. Fuckers!" I said, showing an insulting middle finger, passing it around the protesters including the young daughter for the sole purpose of mindlessly antagonizing them.

"How dare you say that to my daughter!" The father said angrily to me. "Say sorry to her now!"

"Now, if I were to apologize, it would be a lie, and besides - freedom of speech - it's wonderful! Haha!"

"Floyd just ignore them, the service is starting. Besides, they're not worth it, and they'll just use your behaviour against us." A voice said from a fair distance behind me. It came from a fairly short man with short greying hair and a face that was always slightly red for for some reason. His robes were far more decorative than mine, and were light blue in colour with decorative patterns of darker blue and white, but I could never figure out what they were supposed to represent. In his right hand he held a ceremonial staff which looked like it suffered a fairly poor attempt of straightening out, so it was still slightly knobbly in places, but it was 'just enough to pass', and at the top of the staff was a large Dialgan insignia which was roughly the size of his head. These staves were given only to high priests of the church of Dialga, but this man was more than a high priest to me – he was my father who I respected highly. I jogged over to the entrance where he was standing, which was rather tricky with my robes as I almost stumbled along the way."

"Ok, I secretly quite enjoyed seeing you rip it out of the protesters, but like I said, they're going to use your in your face behaviour as 'evidence' that Dialgism promotes...'bad' behaviour, just go in and quickly take your seat." My dad said to me in a surprisingly casual way, as he quickly glanced over what must have been the general plan for the service. I took my seat alongside the other adherents with the 'regular' followers in front of us, like it was a school assembly. I won't lie, it felt good to feel like a senior - all the other adherents in their robes were a good bit older than me on the whole, but I had been serious and devoted to Dialga since pretty much the day I was born, so while considered unusual to be sitting in this row when I was only twenty, it was certainly very fair. It was a large church, the biggest Dialgan church in Edinburgh, and there must have been about two hundred people sitting there, who all seemed to fall quiet when High Priest Munro walked slowly through the door to the right. My dad was a complete expert in holding people's attention, and he didn't even look like he was trying that hard. He stood right behind the alter and turned to look at us.

"Thank you all for coming." He said in a voice that was completely unignorable, as the interior chime sounded, signifying the birth of a new week. Not a single eye was off him, and everyone's ears seemed to all tune into exactly what he was saying. "Now, to begin with, a brief history lesson on our beliefs and truths. We seem to have quite a few new people here, and what will follow also ties into this history lesson – how justice affects you and those around you, the degree that you have to carry out justice on yourself, and others should you need to. Now, have any of you wondered how the lord spread his word? Now when the city of Kiev was founded at some point in the 5th century, the city was going through some very lawless times, and the people's morality was starting to descend to nothingness, and before long, people would be acting no different from wild animals. Can you imagine that for a moment? A place where there was no rules protecting you from injustice, and where the physically strong always get their way."

"There was one particular citizen living in the birth of this city was called Ivan Nazar, and unlike almost everyone else there at the time, he had a strict moral conduct and never brought unhappiness on others without good reason. However, this shining example was not having much of an effect on the lawless city, but someone did take very good notice of this – our lord and great guide Dialga. Dialga then sent two of his children down to this world to announce his plans to Nazar, and how he would be a crucial part of his plan. The two children visited him during the night and led him away from the city and to a passage of time, and they gave him a stone with this pattern on it." He said and put the image on a projector hooked up to a PC - church services benefit from modern technology as well. It was a pattern that I had seen before, used almost like an alternative religious symbol in the past month. The discovery of the design of the symbol was actually only made a month ago during an archaeology dig in the centre of Kiev that got sanctioned after years of pestering the Ukrainian government, but it was all worth it in the end for us Dialgans, and hopefully the stressed archaeologists. In the centre was a circle, and it had some kind of tail-spiral thing going out at right angles of each other, and there seemed to be patterns that looked rather like a mountain range in between them. The high priest turned the page of the Righteous Tome of Dialga with careful eyes, showing even the book the utmost of respect.

"No one knows what the passage of time looks like, and our best guess is that it will only appear to one of Dialga's children, also known as the illusive race of celebi to the scientific community, and also to Nazar, most likely because the celebi wanted him to be able to see and use it for this purpose. Nazar crossed this passage into Dialga's own world or dimension, and he described it as being a compact world, with an very large island that spanned what must have been thirty five miles either side, with a most sacred looking tower of otherworldly metal hovering a great distance above the centre. The two celebi lead him up to the base of the tower. Nazar was scared and asked 'Where am I? Why did you bring me here? What are you?', and one of the celebi said back 'our father is waiting at the top for you, and as you climb up, you will understand why.' As he climbed the tower, he could see magnificent events in time throughout the history of the universe - the births of galaxies, the first ever fragment of life, and even a few moments just after the birth of the universe itself. Most mortal men would have gone insane from seeing this, but Dialga picked him for many good reasons, his mental resilience being one of them. Upon arriving at the top, he saw Dialga himself, standing magnificently in front of him like an enormous structure of living crystal and metal adorned with brilliant blue light."

"'Don't be scared.' Dialga said to him, craning his neck down for Ivan to see him more clearly. 'However, I need you for a few things, if you would kindly agree to them. What I'm about to ask of you will be very important, and it will probably be difficult.' Nazar was again frightened, yet he was still curious."

"Who are you, and what do you need of me?" Nazar said back to him, still in awe at his magnificence.

"'I am Dialga, the lord and deity of time. From this tower I ensure the stability of time, keeping it's flow in a straight line, and ensuring the safety of all existence. Now what I am going to ask of you, is to help me write a most sacred tome - you see, there is much lawlessness and disorder not only in your home town of Kiev, but of many, many other settlements from around the world. I want you to help me bring more order, fairness and justice to those worlds.' My dad's wording of what was going on in the story of Grand Prophet Nazar was perhaps not the best, but I couldn't do any better myself, and both he and the church enjoyed his storytelling method of getting the origin story across. The book never said precisely what they said anyway, and Dialga did not place great importance on how Nazar spread the word, even though he was very thankful for his efforts."

"'Excuse me.' Nazar said. 'But how will a tome bring about law and order alone?'"

"'I shall tell you once the book is finished.'" The high priest put the book down on the table after bookmarking it and walked slowly to the side of the alter.

"Now, a lot of the tome on the first section, the story of Grand Prophet Nazar, is the most important part of The Righteous Tome, for the fifty pages after the brief story points I went over contains the morals in plain black and white, and the discussion of why they are good morals to live by. Nazar was told to be a curious man, and asks for reasons for many things, for Dialga knows that knowing that something is right or wrong isn't good enough. Understanding _why_ actions can be right and wrong is more important, and the particular moral section I want to focus on here, is on dealing with those who wrong you. Now I assume that everyone has suffered because of someone doing something to you that they shouldn't have, put up your hands if this is the case." I didn't see a single person who didn't put up their hands, and it wasn't surprising at all.

"Now, that should be the obvious." My dad said, taking slow steps around the alter, while still keeping eye contact with the audience at all times. "But the main question is, how did you deal with it?" This got the audience thinking, but I knew what was roughly coming up next. "Come on, lets hear some examples, don't be shy, someone stand up and tell me of a time when someone did something bad to you." The high priest said, now walking quickly, moving closer to the audience in an enthusiastic manner. A shy teenager who looked like he was about fifteen stood up after about five seconds.

"Three days ago, I was punched in the face for supposedly chatting up another guy's girlfriend, even though I had no interest in going out with her." He said shyly. My dad looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

"And what did you do after in relation to that incident?" He asked him. The young man just shrugged, which kind of gave the impression that he didn't do anything about it to me, but my dad seemed to ignore this and go back to the alter.

"Well, we'll see what Dialga has to say about it." He said, opening the book and quickly turning to the page he was looking for.

"'It is of paramount importance, Nazar, that wrongdoing does not go unpunished.'" He said, reading from the book, which was evidently what Dialga said. "'For if a crime goes unpunished, the criminal will see a weakness, meaning he can get away with further wrongdoings without any consequence happening to him. So if someone mistreats you or does something bad to you, punish them if no higher authority will, but, and I stress this utterly, make sure that your punishment is not as bad as the crime. Overall, this will suit two vital purposes Nazar, to ward people from wrongdoing, while still maintaining the moral high ground. This has good consequences for all, since by punishing them, you ward that person from crimes against everyone - everyone should live by this for a fair society.'" The high priest coughed and walked back towards the audience

"Now, from what Dialga has told Nazar, and us through the righteous book, can you perhaps suggest to this young man what he could do here?" He said, hoarding in everyone's complete and undivided attention. "Come on, I want to see more active participation here - this is a community event, not a mere presentation." He said, smiling. An older man stood up to speak, a fellow adherent such as myself, clearing his throat.

"Steal some money from his bag without anyone looking." He suggested.

"Good, good!" He said, pointing and walking over to him. "Just don't steal too much - after all, if the punishment is worse than the crime, then you've become worse than the criminal!" A woman stood up, who looked fairly new to the faith, offered her opinion.

"Tell the behaviour management staff in the school." She said, nodding.

"Ah, that's an important point you brought up, thank you." He said, walking quickly over to her. "Appealing to authority if possible is important, because we don't want to breed a bunch of vigilantes here." He said, and everyone, including myself chuckled along side him. "Yes, that also works, has this helped you so far young man?" he said, nodding to the teenager who provided an example earlier. "Because, if you do nothing back, you know what might happen? The guy who punched you will probably think 'Hey! I can get away with this!' and exploit you and others for it! What he does to you, don't let him get away scot-free! Just have a think about what's been said here - Dialga gives us such moral advice for a reason. Oh, and I'd go for reporting him first, but if it doesn't sort him out, pinch his money." The rest of the service was fairly informal in comparison after my dad had finished with his lecture, and a lot of it was just casual talk between the church goers, and my dad wandering around in case anyone wanted to know anything, or had any questions. It was a good atmosphere that was significantly more casual.

"You're not the priest's son, are you?" An old man said from the row behind me.

"Aye, I'm probably going to be very biased, but my dad seems to be an expert in the art of holding attention." I said and nodded .

"Yep, no wonder he was promoted to high priest above the other priests - the others focus too much on worship. You see kid, I was reading The Righteous Tome this evening, and Dialga did at one point say that time worshipping could be used to help others, and asks us to keep pray and worship sparingly. Unlike those at the blasted Arceus church, who pretty much think that worship is they key to everything in a make-believe afterlife. Idiot fools..." He said, and I completely agree with him. A thank you for Dialga was deserving - after all, without him we'd all be frozen in time, but I guess all the thank yous would make him rather sickly, to put it in human terms. The prayer was always said at the end of the service, which my dad was about to order by the looks of things, walking back to the alter.

"Ok, a quick prayer, and we'll be done, get the prayer notes from under your seats, and together." He said, and in a sort of orchestral style, signalled everyone to say the prayer in pretty close unison.

"Lord Dialga: We thank you for the birth of this new week, of which we will use constructively, and to our best use. We thank you for keeping time flowing throughout eternity and so that we, and our children, and our children's children may live safely in the knowledge for this. We thank you for listening to our prayers, and for providing moral guidance during trouble situations. Thank you." After it was finished, people walked out fairly orderly, but there was much chatting between them. I however, wandered up to meet my dad.

"Hi dad, I thought that was engaging, even though I have kind of heard the story from you quite a few times and have read it myself as well." I said and chuckled. It was strange, being almost twenty centimetres taller than my rather small father.

"Well, I've been doing services for over twenty years, It'd be disappointing if I weren't engaging after all that practice, haha!" He said, and we had a little laugh among ourselves as he got packed up to head home.

"There was something I wanted to ask though, it's about Palkism - I don't mind it, in spite of what the righteous book tells me, which is to hate it. I mean I think it's pretty bullshit, especially about Palkia re-birthing the 'worthy' as their 'soul pokemon', I mean, to think they believe that we all have pokemon souls inside of us, which is even more bizarre than the Arceus faith claiming we have human souls, and yet, they seem pretty harmless aside from their softness towards villainy." My father looked a bit surprised at this.

"Well, actually, I kind of agree - I mean, Arceism is a juggernaut pretty much, and up until recent history, the Arceist church pretty much ran the country in a theocratic environment, and they still have a lot of power and weight to this day, which they like to throw around. During the second book within the righteous tome, where the cultures between the faiths went pretty much at war against each other, both our faith and the Palkian faith had power, and at the time, reason to despise one another. So as you can imagine, dislike towards that faith was encouraged, but I guess it's still valid if our faiths and values are trying to be prosecuted, but they're not, at least not by them. I befriend those who I feel comfortable with, and if someone is of a different faith, then, while I think it'd be good of them to convert, I can look past it as long as they don't talk down to my loyalties to Dialga." He said, finishing packing up his trunk, of which he had packed in a very orderly fashion. "Of all the other faiths, I think that Palkian one is the most tolerable, and their moral code is actually not that different in some ways aside from the lack of discipline and its general appeal towards forgiveness. However, it's these false promises of an afterlife that riles me - people should be good and moral for the sheer sake of being good and moral, not for a reward after death, or both aiming for a reward and avoiding a punishment in the case of the Arceist faith."

"As for the heavy handed Giratinan faith...well, why they would worship such an evil entity is beyond me, as do the fact that they believe in another dimension where the pokemon supposedly came came, not to mention the fact they want to separate pokemon and humans so that Giratina can take them back to their original dimension. Even if it were all true, I wouldn't want the pokemon to be taken away from us – I do miss that pidove that used to visit me in the early evening every few days, but I fear that some trainer probably caught it against its will if it wasn't killed by a persian or something. We were friends, and they want to separate us. Fortunately, only about one in four hundred claim to follow Giratina, which is fortunate. Anyway, I'm tired, I'm off home." He said, as we walked outside and to our cars, illuminated only by the fairly dull street lamps. "See you soon Floyd."

"Goodbye Kirk!" I said, grinning slightly - calling my dad by his actual name was a bit of an in-joke between us.

"You can call me sir, thank you very much!" He said, grinning back as we got in our respective vehicles. The roads were dead, as expected for quarter to two in the morning. I felt slightly tired, but It wasn't uncommon for me to stay up this late. The city felt quieter now, which was nice since I didn't really want any encounters along the way home and the effects of the rain earlier seemed to have mostly vanished. Once I arrived home, I suddenly felt a bit more tired due to the focus on the driving and I longed for my bed. Unfortunately, I smelled something sickly - seems like Grovyle did vomit after all, the poor guy. I honestly never expected him to actually throw up, but I was far from knowledgeable on the effects of alcohol on grovyles. I left it there just in case he were to puke again, and to leave a crude reminder for him of what happens when he drinks, even through there wasn't much in there at all. I got my own drink - of water that is, and quickly brushed my teeth and undressed to go to bed in an almost ritual fashion. After a final leak in the toilet, I turned the light off and got under my covers, just leaving my thoughts to wander. What a good life I had - I really don't think I could ask for much more! I had all the friends I wanted, a comfortable income of cash, a fairly comfortable flat, being able to experience the thrills and enjoyment of being in a band, and a way to make sure that all my actions and decisions were morally sound, and a great balance between work and recreation. I guess things got even better after I met Grovyle - he was always there for me, and yet, wasn't too over the top in the nice department. I think I would cry if he wanted to leave. I gently dosed off to sleep, and I awoke to a tomorrow was just as good as yesterday - I found it funny dealing with Grovyle's first hangover and his reaction to the scenario, and his endless pleads for forgiveness for the trouble he caused, and the day after that was great too. No doubt, this was the highest point in my life so far - if my rest of my life was like this, I could die happy, no problem at all.

A few months later, on an early Wednesday evening, my phone gave me quite a fright as it vibrated sharply in my left pocket. It was my dad, but unlike the other phone calls he gave me, the tone of which he spoke in wasn't desperate, or happy, yet there was huge degree of importance in his voice.

"Floyd, please, come to my house right away - there are many things that have happened lately, and I want to share them to you. No, a phone call won't do, this has to be face to face."


	3. Divinations

Pokemon: The Unknown Continuum: Scenes From A Memory

Chapter 3: Divinations

"I'll be there." I said to my dad before hanging up. I did not doubt his sincerity on his part, even if he can occasionally take very trivial things surprisingly seriously such as accusing Omar of being a stoner, even though he had never touched hash in his life, and even if he did, would it really matter? My father's sudden suspicions on things were often right however, but only most the time. One of the times that he was right was when he was suspicious that my mother was going to try and lure me away from Dialga's righteous path when I was only in primary school. His efforts to try and get her to become a serious Dialgan only seemed to fuel the tension between the two of them and by the time I was ten years old, it was between 'never stray from the path Dialga has left us,' and 'Please don't take your father too seriously about this Dialga stuff.' Needless to say, she showed no signs of converting and the whole thing backfired as she completely renounced any faith that she had, and one faith-fueled argument later, heard by me from my bedroom at the time, they decided to part ways. Perhaps it ended up well for Kirk, since you cannot be married to a non-Dialgan if you want to be a Dialgan priest. I decided to stay with my dad which caused my mum to feel bitter towards me for a few months, but it was all patched up after that. I was overdue a visit to see my mother - I'd better see her some time this week.

"Was that you're dad?" Grovyle asked, with a tiny hint of bitterness as I saw him crawling along the ceiling - perhaps he was trying to spy on my phone to see who phoned me, and this didn't ring well with me at all.

"Grovyle, get down from there – you'll mark the bloody ceiling, and mind not creeping up on me like that!?" I said, taking a couple of steps away from him, putting the phone hastily into my pocket.

"Well?" He said, dropping onto the floor, making barely a sound, staring at me. Grovyle would probably get along well with my mum - he also thinks my dad raising me as a strict Dialgan was a terrible idea, but if you ask me, I am very grateful for his upbringing tactics on me.

"Yes, and...?" I said, folding my arms and staring back at him.

"...I don't think he's good for you Floyd, he's had a moral choke-hold on you since day one, and he still has to this day." I looked at him and frowned slightly.

"I think he done what was best for me. Look, even if you despise Dialga and the faith with a passion, can you at least see he has good intentions – for fuck sake, you've never even met the guy!" I said, looking frustrated at him. "If I knew he was bad for me, I'd stop seeing him. I am, actually, believe it or not, capable of making my own judgements! And before you ask, it's not that I have Dialga decide my actions - I just have good faith in his views and opinions, as well as my dad's to a lesser degree." I finished, breathing slightly heavier than normal, not taking a breath between anything that I said. I probably wouldn't have done so if he said such things about my dad.

"...Ok, I was just trying to look out for you there, sorry." Grovyle said, but it didn't sound like he was using reverse psychology try and avoid me from seeing my dad.

"Alrighty then, uh, don't pinch too much chicken from the fridge, will you? Other than that, just do what you like in here within reason, no start fires, please?" I said and chuckled slightly.

"Of course not." Grovyle said, smiling ever so slightly, obviously thinking of mischievous possibilities. "See you soon then." He said as I left the flat and took a pleasant drive to my dads, who lived a mere ten minutes away. I made the journey in an old Renault which chugged slightly whenever I changed gears. Never really cared for anything above the smallest price for a car, since this still got me from A to B without any complaints, which is what a car is supposed to do. I was however beginning to wonder whether it was road-worthy by now though from the occasional strange noise it made. My dad had a fairly modest flat on the ground floor of the tower block, but the interior was very dissonant, looking like it belonged to someone who was on a six figure salary. His mentality of 'it's what's on the inside that counts', funnily enough applying it to living spaces, and not really being one who liked going on holidays, pretty much all of his disposable income went to getting flashy things for his flat. Letting myself in with my own key, I was met by his friendly voice in the living room.

"Ah, you're here Floyd!" He said with a smile on his face as I walked into his well decorated living room. "Shall I get you a drink? I got some cider in since I know you don't like beer."

"Shall I just help myself?" I said to him, but he was already out of his sofa.

"Nonono, I'll go get it for you, make yourself comfortable." He said, speaking rather quickly, which was quite unlike his usual smooth, rather slow way of talking. Obviously, he was out of his priest robes, and was in a casual shirt and jeans like most people his age wear. Aside from being the high priest of this area of Scotland, he was also an English teacher at Tynecastle High School, so he was a fairly busy man. He came back, giving me an opened bottle of Strongbow, which I took a small gulp of as soon as I got it. In Kirk's other hand, there was a cold bottle of Budweiser, which he started drinking.

"OK, I did ask you to come here for a reason after all, so I'll fill you in." He said, putting his bottle on the coffee table next to him and clasped his hands together. "There is someone I want you to meet Floyd."

"You're not seriously suggesting that I need counselling, haha!" I said, while me and Kirk laughed in unison. Kirk coughed and continued.

"Hah, no. Now before you meet him, I want you to treat him as you would any other human, understand?" It seemed like an odd introduction, but I merely nodded as I just decided to go along with it.

"OK, come through now, mind your head and whatnot." Kirk called through. Who he wanted me to meet, I really was not expecting. I then understood why Kirk told me to treat him like any other human, for it was not a human I ended up making eye contact with. It was a dusknoir of all things, and he had his arms folded in a very buisness like manner, and his one-eyed gaze on me unsettled me.

"Greetings." It said, in a fairly deep voice. "I am Dusknoir, and you must be Floyd." In many ways, I should have almost been expecting this, as I had already met pokemon that spoke a human language. He held out his large hand for me to shake in a formal greeting.

"Be gentle Dusknoir, you don't know your strength at times - you crushed my hand when we first met." Kirk said as he shook my hand firmly, which might have been fairly mild by his. He wasn't the sort of person, or pokemon to get on the wrong side of my the looks of things.

"I was honoured to meet your father less than a week ago just after your Dialgan church service. At the time, I was searching for a higher meaning of life, and the high priest showed me exactly what I had been looking for, so that I can live fruitfully in Dialga's eyes." He said, again, coming off like an overly formal gentleman.

"Oh Dusknoir, this is supposed to be a casual get-together, relax." My dad said, smiling at Dusknoir, shaking his head a bit, chuckling a bit.

"You have an actual name?" I asked Dusknoir, thinking of Grovyle, saying he didn't want to adopt an actual name since he wasn't born with one, like pretty much every pokemon in existence.

"I would deem such things unnecessary unless a lot of my kind follow the path of enlightenment to reach such civilized standards. Dusknoir will do, thank you very much." He said, which almost seemed to frustrate Kirk slightly, looking out of the corner of my eye, though I still think it was to do with his Queen's-English approach to casual chit chat.

"It still seems I have to teach you how to be casual...don't worry, I'll get to that soon, you are a magnificently quick learner though. He came to me with the bare bones of speaking English, Floyd." He said, turning his head to face me as he slouched on his sofa. "I showed him a programme on the Internet to help him learn, and within mere days - he's speaking fluently, which is incredible, even if he did stay up all night and day on it. Is it to with the biology of dusknoirs?"

"I would assume so, our brains seemed to be adapted for swift learning, and our memories are very stable, and we don't forget things easily, but unlike the majority of my kind, I put such things to good use, won't you agree, priest?" Dusknoir said, putting his arms back in the folded position.

"Well, of course, and please, call me Kirk - we're friends, not just acquaintances." Kirk said. "Priests, high priests such as myself, hell, even the Grand Hierophant are not 'above' other people. We just help spread the word about Dialga and educate people of his righteous ways that we should follow. You can make me feel a little uncomfortable with your aloof ways." While my dad did tend to speak with similar words to Dusknoir, he was far more lax in the tone that he talked in and showed no signs of hiding his rather thick Scottish accent. "And don't forget, Dialga also wants us to enjoy life - passage thirty-five of chapter eight - he said to not bother giving him any extended periods of worship since he wants us to be productive in life."

"But he keeps time flowing constantly, surely that deserves..." Dusknoir said, but Kirk cut him off.

"As your priest, I recommend not letting it run your every single thought." He said with firmness in his voice. He clearly knew when to be firm and when to be friendly in persuading others. "I am an expert on this you know." He gestured to the righteous book, and Dusknoir seemed to understand.

"I see, pr...Kirk." He said, correcting himself.

"Ah, like I said, you'll get used to living among humans." Kirk said, finishing his beer. "In a few weeks, you'll start understanding, sound good?" Dusknoir nodded and left the room, reading a copy of the Righteous Tome. "Right, Floyd...see him? The first pokemon who has became a Dialgan - no one has ever heard of anything like this, and I believe this is monumental to the faith. The Grand Heirophant in the holy city of Kiev will be so pleased about this! I'm going to give Dusknoir a few words to say next service, film it, and show the upcoming great moment!" My dad looked excited - an emotion he barely ever shows, even when he's happy.

"I suppose you want me to film it then." I said, expecting him to say yes.

"Well...if it's not too much trouble. I have a camcorder and a tripod, use that on the night." Kirk said before getting us both another drink. "OK, I guess that was all the important stuff I had to say, but I have a good idea - remember all the times you said 'wow, I had a dream last night, and it went like...' well, I'm gonna have revenge, haha!" By this point, I suspected my father of having a few drinks before I arrived - his perkiness was slightly creepy, given that he was a fairly cynical guy at times.

"How so...?" I asked.

"Well, I'm sharing a dream with you now! You see, I fell asleep on the couch when I was watching some late night television after the last service at two o'clock in the morning, but the manner of which I fell asleep was odd. I wasn't remotely tired,at the time."

"Don't you have to get up to get teaching at school at seven for something?" I asked. "So wouldn't it make sense to go to bed then?"

"Naw, I'm a night owl on Sundays, I wake up at noon so I'm not completely zonked for the service. But like I said, it was very sudden, and when I did fall asleep, I saw this strange light zooming in and heard strange ringing inside my head before going to sleep. No, it's not these bullshit 'out of body' experiences, just clarifying that now. I then saw what must have been Temporal Tower itself, for it seemed like it was built with an otherworldly...aura? Or something like that, and it seemed to roughly fit the description of the tower in the Righteous Tome. All while I was feeling a little disembodied while I was floating." Kirk seemed to be speaking a bit slower than usual, as he was evidently trying to remember all the details. I listened in as he did to me, but I could only assume what he saw was his own interpretation of Temporal Tower - not like he's seen actual any pictures of it, since no such pictures even exist aside from an artist's best guess.

"Then it got stranger, and actually quite horrifying. I heard a roar from the top of the tower - was it Dialga? Quite possibly, and I saw bits of the tower breaking off rather quickly until it outright collapsed. The light came and zoomed back out, and I found myself lying on the couch again, but the creepiest bit was how little time had past - it was just two minutes before I got up from that fairly vivid dream, but eh, stuff like that happens occasionally. It's hardly unheard of, and it's hardly as bizarre as the stuff your brain dreams of - dropping pennies from a great height, knocking those unfortunate people on Prince's Street while flying on top of a flygon!" I had a good laugh at this, and shook my head.

"I don't have any to share with you this time - anyway, how's Dusknoir, well...as a person?" I asked, wondering if there was a side to him I didn't know yet.

"Well, you've pretty much seen how he's always been since we met - very formal, and takes Dialgism extremely seriously, arguably even more than I do at times. I did mention it to him a couple of times, but I'll give him a good talk about it - it even says right here!" He said, showing me a passage in the book very quickly. "To follow his words, but to not let them take complete and utter control of your life. Still, perhaps he'll understand when he reads up to that point - he's been very thorough with his study of the English language and our faith." Speaking of Dusknoir, I saw behind Kirk that he was gently floating through the doorway, still reading.

"I want to ask a question...Kirk." He said, seeming to have trouble being casual to him. "Going by the justice policy, would killing someone who has murdered one person be wrong, but killing someone who has murdered more than one be acceptable, since the punishment would be less than the crime?" My dad stood up and sighed, and went flicking through his pages, muttering as he found the passage he was looking for.

"Here." He said and pointed. "What does that say?" Dusknoir scanned the verse with his eye, and paused for a second.

"Ah, so the line is drawn at permanently crippling the criminal on top of life imprisonment, since it states that no one has the right to take someone else's life under any circumstances. Sounds absolutely right, and I agree with my lord wholeheartedly!" Dusknoir said, nodding in agreement of my father and the book.

"Which is why we Dialgans are opposed to capital punishment - it doesn't happen in the UK, fortunately. Anyway Floyd, how's your band going? You don't have to demonstrate by showing any recordings, haha!" He said - even though my dad did enjoy a lot of different music, my band's music was just a bit too out there for him, and I didn't really blame him.

"Well, we're going to record an EP in a couple of weeks, other than that, nothing has really changed per se. We're having a break from band activities until a couple of days before the recording." I said, scratching the side of my head. "But it's all good."

"Good to hear." Kirk lied down on the couch, looking rather slobbish when my phone chimed in my pocket. I really did not like having phone conversations in the same room as people, so I briskly walked through to the kitchen without even saying anything to my dad.

"Hello?" I said, coughing slightly as I shut the door.

"Hey Floyd, Omar here! I know you wanted a week to relax and all, but I'm not - I'm finally going to put my money where my mouth is and go on a small, almost free trip to the Alps! Ah, I love Dragonair...So yea, I'll be gone for about three days." He seemed to stop for a few seconds suddenly before saying something that put me in a strange position. "You should come with me." This had to be the most sudden offer for a trip somewhere I have ever had, and I had no idea what to say.

"Eh...when did you say you were going?" I said, my voice sounding a little twisted in uncertainty.

"In about two or three hours." He said very casually. This put me right off - for a trip like this, I would have liked at least a few weeks notice, or hell, even a few days - but mere hours?!

"...Sorry, I would need more notice than this." I said to Omar.

.

"Ah, that's too bad man, come see me before you leave if you like though." He said and we hung up. I guess I could drop my stuff off at my place and walk to Omar's flat to see him before he leaves.

"Ok, I'll be off now, goodbye guys." I said to my dad and Dusknoir.

"That was quick Floyd, but I suppose you have other stuff to do. Oh, and could you come half an hour early to help me set up things for next service?" Kirk asked me just before I walked out of the door.

"I can try, but I may be pushed for time." I said back to him, looking round at him as he lent through the doorway.

"Ok, I'll keep that in mind, see ya pal." I shut the door behind me and jogged along to my car. It was pretty cloudy, but didn't look like it would rain, but the wind made things feel a little more awkward, always blowing my hair into my mouth - damn, I hated it when that happened.

"So that's what your dad's like..." Turns out that Grovyle must have been followed me here somehow and eavesdropped the entire fucking conversation from outside the house, and it felt like he was going into outright stalker territory by this point.

"Why the hell did you follow me here anyway? That's just...uh..." I said before Grovyle cut me off.

"Well, I took what you said to heart, and decided to see how your dad acted around you. I guess you're right, he's not a prick, but that Dusknoir's...strange. Still, wouldn't mind speaking to him - he's the only other pokemon I know who can speak English, and I don't blame him for getting curious . It'd be interesting to say the least." Grovyle said from a tree before dropping down. He sure liked to flaunt his agility.

"Anyway, since you pretty much stalked me here, I'm off home - have a ride in the car if you'd like, but not on top, Grovyle, I'm not wanting you to scratch the paint." I did often wonder why Grovyle liked to jump around like this and seemingly act like an action hero. He was nearly as old as me for crying out loud, but on the other hand, maybe it was just a thing for grovyles on the whole, and perhaps he was really, really concerned about staying in shape - good for him I guess. I got in the car, and fastened myself in - Grovyle, however just jumped right over me and into the passenger seat.

"I guess I was just trying to look out for you, was I being a bit overbearing?" Grovyle asked as I drove off into the streets of Edinburgh.

"No Grovyle, you're not being overbearing whatsoever. Feel free to follow me to every single place I go, including the shower." I sighed heavily after the obvious load of sarcasm. "Just try not to let the isolated incident with the houndooms rattle you too much." The traffic had significantly busier, but I never minded too much. "Omar also asked me to go flying on his pokemon to the Alps for a few days, and he only told me about twenty minutes ago and he's leaving today, so I had to turn down."

"Oh yea...he did?" Grovyle said, with a sudden change in tone of his voice, as if he just caught on to what I said. "Well, I'm sure he'll still enjoy himself anyway." He said as I rolled into the car park and went up to my flat after I locked the car.

"You going to see him before he leaves?" Grovyle asked as I started climbing up the stairs, making a slight echo with each footstep.

"Yes, actually, I am." I said as I fumbled with the key in my pocket and opened the door.

"I think you should go with him." Grovyle said, being almost as sudden as when Omar himself suggested it. "I'll come as well."

"I already said, I'm only going to see Omar, wish him luck, have a chatter and be on my way." I said with a slightly raised voice as I walked into the living room, with a full backpack being left on the table.

"...I emptied it a couple of days ago..." I said, having a look at it. "Guess I never did it then, I'll go empty it now then..." I thought out loud when I opened it, thinking I'd just be putting drink back in the fridge, but I couldn't see any. All I saw was underwear, cloths and a few toiletries - I sure didn't go on a trip anywhere recently, and I swore I heard grovyle snicker at me from behind.

"...Did you have something to do with this?" I asked, not sounding to suspicious of him but all I saw was Grovyle laugh slightly.

"Floyd, you're going with Omar. You never get out, and you need to for a few days if you ask me." I raised my right eyebrow at this - he must have known before me that Omar was heading abroad for a couple of days.

"I do - I go outside pretty much every day, what the hell do you mean 'I never go out?'" Grovyle sighed at this, since I evidently missed the point.

"Out of Edinburgh! When was the last time you went outside this city? Come on now, it'll do you a lot of good, and Omar will be very happy to see you go with him." He said, as my protest started.

"I'm not going! I'll shit myself with fear riding on Dragonair and I feel very comfor-" I was cut off right there when Grovyle glared at me.

"You're going." He said flatly - considering he was digging his heels in this time, I didn't exactly want to argue with him. Not that I'd ever think he'd get aggressive at me or anything, but there was something about him at this time which made me not to put up a resistance.

"...Fine. I'll go." I said, my face looking disgruntled in the mirror out of the corner of my eye.

"That's better! Don't worry, all the things you'll be needing are in that bag." He said, throwing it at me, which I caught with a bit of difficulty and put it on my back. "Now let's not keep Omar waiting." He said, ushering me outside and back into the car. Sure, I didn't feel comfortable doing this, but I couldn't help but admit that Grovyle had a point - I must have went outside of Edinburgh once every blue moon. Granted, I was content with the city in just about every way, but perhaps I was missing out on many things outside of Edinburgh. I guess it'd only last a few days if I hated it.

"What about travelling there - how do you suspect I'd cope?" I said, hoping not to sound too afraid about the prospect of flying on a large serpentine pokemon.

"Floyd, please, have a little more trust in Dragonair. She clearly likes you, and I don't think she'd let you fall, and even if you did, it's not like she couldn't catch you." Grovyle said. "You'll be safe, don't worry buddy!" He said, pinching my cheeks clearly trying to wind me up by trying to act like a big brother.

"Fuck off!" I said pushing him into the passenger seat, while he howled with laughter.

"Sorry...it's just your face at times!" He said, continuing to laugh loudly, as I drove off. "You really shouldn't have told me you don't like any affection at all - it's given me a whole plateau of things I can do to torment you!" He said, and did a fake evil laugh. I guess it was Grovyle's playful side to him coming out - too bad it was at the expense of my own comfort.

"That aside though, you should really put more trust in her, she'll make sure you're safe - just try to have a good time." Grovyle finished saying as we parked our car in a free car park - how lucky was I to find a free space there!

"Hey man!" I heard a voice call from above, belonging to Omar. "Come on up, I'll unlock the ground floor for you." He said, and I didn't even have to wait for the buzzer to sound, signifying that the door had been unlocked as I climbed the stairs rather quickly, Grovyle just behind me. I walked right into Omar's place without bothering to knock, since I didn't think he'd be too bothered about me just walking in when he already invited me up.

"Floyd!" Omar said and gave me a hug. Unlike anyone else, I openly let Omar hug me as he was my best friend and a very 'huggy' person. I didn't hug him back however.

"Ok, Omar, hehe." I said, gesturing him to let go. "Looking forward to your trip?"

"Yeah man...why did you bring your bag?" He asked, peering round at it. I heard Grovyle snigger behind me as I rolled my eyes.

"He convinced me to come with you." I responded flatly to him, folding my arms as I looked at Omar and Grovyle in turn. As they smiled at each other, it confirmed my suspicions that they were in league with each other to get me to go with them.

"Yeah, I really hope this doesn't make you pissed with us man, but we've been planning this for a couple of days." Omar said. "Well, I was planning to go for a lot longer, but Grovyle actually came to see me about trying to get you to come with us, which I went along with. I admit, I probably should have told you sooner, but hey - we might as well go now, since you're already here, ready and willing."

"Partially..." I said back, sighing slightly. "And do make sure I don't fall off your pokemon... so, shall we get this out of way then?" I asked, and Omar responded by gesturing me to follow him outside without saying a word. I didn't say a word to Grovyle either as Omar let Dragonair out, which proceeded to nuzzle him almost immediately with affection.

"Hey!" Omar chuckled. "Easy girl! Also, it's time - all three of us are going." He said, climbing on top of her, and Grovyle followed. I would have had no problems getting on if I was comfortable about going sky high without any real form of security.

"Err...please don't make any sudden movements." I said nervously as I climbed on top behind Omar and Grovyle. Unlike those two who were settling rather casually, their legs hanging at either side of the pokemon, I was clinging onto it like moss to a rock, wrapping my arms and legs around it firmly.

"Ok, I think we're all ready, haha!" Omar said as Dragonair took off into the air. I clenched my teeth together and breathed deeply and quickly as I saw the streets, flats and houses slowly get smaller. Unlike what a lot of people suggested, I did look down - I needed to know how far I was away from the ground, and looking ahead or up didn't change my situation. Dragonair was a pretty damn fast at flying, and it was hard to look ahead to see where we were going.

"Lucky for us, I came prepared, huh huh!" Omar said, passing me a pair of cheap ski goggles to protect our eyes. Grovyle seemed perfectly fine without them for some reason, not that they'd fit him anyway. I had a lot of trouble putting them on with one hand, the other one staying firmly around Dragonair's body.

"See, it's not so bad Floyd!" Grovyle said. "I told you were panicking over nothing."

"...Thanks." I said, not paying too much attention to him, just trying to get myself as relaxed as I could, using the term 'relaxed' very loosely. By now we were just below the clouds, but there wasn't exactly much difference between being this high and a hundred meters of the ground, since falling would spell death anyway. It was just a case of not letting fear making me too jumpy, which slowly became easier as there was no moments during the flight so far where I directly feared falling to my death. I did start wondering how the hell Dragonair could keep itself, me and my two of my friends in the air by using it's ears or tufts of hair or whatever to fly. I'm sure there would be some crazy explanation for it, I never knew all that much about pokemon biology and whatnot.

"You doing OK?" Omar said.

"Oh, fine, just fine." I said back, sounding less fearful than before.

"I was asking Dragonair, not you, haha!" Omar said in his usual chuckling matter.

"Oh, fuck you!" I said, smiling broadly.

"Well, good too see your doing well too man." Omar said. Dragonair seemed to make some sort of noise which Omar obviously understood as 'doing good.'

"Not feeling tired at all, eh? Well, we still have a bit to go, we're only above Birmingham by the looks of things." Omar said, looking down at the buildings below with curiosity. "Huh huh, remember that asshole that elbowed your face in that Opeth gig? I saw him vomit on the street and get taken away by the cops in case I didn't tell you already, was hilarious! Still amazed they put on such a great show being that old." Omar said going on a strange tangent given how he was reminded of the time when we saw them in Birmingham where we saw them.

"Heh...what an idiot..." I said, shuffling up a bit towards the others. I could not tell why, but I felt very light headed as suddenly as a well timed jump scare as I found myself breathing heavily just as quickly as I began to zone out of the conversation.

"Ugh, is this what high altitude sickness is like...?" I said lazily, struggling to keep my eyes open, lazily resting my head on Dragonair.

"Man, she'd never take us that high..." That was the last thing I heard from Omar before I passed out, and I seemed to enter a most unusual state of mind, for I seemed to balance on the boundaries of consciousness and unconsciousness. I seemed to zoom into a light that was approaching fast like a train coming through a tunnel at night, and then I saw something quite unexpected – Martin Mendez, the greying bassist of Opeth, was slouching in a very cosy looking room just watching some TV.

I wasn't sure whether he was in his own home or a house that his family has in Uruguay, but whoever owned the house, they seemed to be quite the collector of memorabilia from what I could see. My attention was now fixed on him, as I seemed to be floating slightly above him with no real physical form. I saw him sigh as he switched channels on the TV without much thought, looking like the slightly old man was about to fall asleep. Upon a closer inspection of Mr Mendez, the expression on his face went from a lazy smile to completely panic stricken, and he wasn't even watching a scary film. He began sweating as he clutched his chest with his left arm and grabbed the phone with his right and after dialling a short number, spoke in a panicky fashion in what I was assuming was Spanish. Other worried voices and footsteps were sounding louder and louder as they must have been coming in from all sections of the house as Martin gripped his left arm tightly and continued to be in a state of shock. He was looking in my general direction, but the horrified bassist couldn't see me at all, and neither could what I presumed were his family as my field of view started zooming out from the disaster I had just witnessed.

Perhaps Omar was wrong, perhaps this was high altitude sickness, since I have never seen something in this sort of floaty, but vivid way before, feeling different from a standard dream. These thoughts rolled in my head more than what I actually saw there as my mind rolled back into consciousness, where I felt Grovyle shaking me.

"He passed out Omar! Really! Floyd would probably not prank us in this way, seems very unlike him. Wake up!" Grovyle said who seemed to be constantly alternating between speaking to me and Omar. I lazily glanced up at them, feeling very grateful that I didn't fall. "Floyd, you're OK, you're fine...right?" Grovyle said, turning to face me.

"Well, I don't feel sick, or even have a headache...how long was I out for?" I asked, feeling fully awake as quickly as I passed out.

"About a couple of minutes." Grovyle said before turning back to Omar. "Omar, are you sure it's a good idea to take Floyd there, I mean, I don't think this'll be good for him after all if he's passing out." Grovyle said, making a rather large fuss about it.

"Omar, It's not worth turning back for, we're like a third of the way there, I'd hate to scrap your plans and piss of Dragonair for having travelled almost all the way down England for nothing. I feel fine now."

"I dunno man, I mean, you've never had a history of passing out like that, have you?" I shook my head, responding to Omar. "I see...well, there's a way around this all - there's a friend of mine who lives in London, who has the most genius way of making money. He has an alakazam, and he charges people a fair good whack for teleporting people fair distances. Treats his alakazam like royalty in return for it, haha! We should be passing over London in about half an hour, I'll give him a call."

"Wait Omar, hasn't there been a lot of cases where people got 'teleportation sickness' for a few days afterwards?" I said - this was a bit concerning, and I wasn't too keen on his idea.

"It comes free with pills that have been developed to help prevent that - took a lot of testing to get through, and they're pretty expensive, but I'll see to it that you get home, trust me." I nodded silently, and just held on firmly as he made his call to his friend. It all sounded dodge to me, but I decided it was worth trusting Omar on this case, since I thought it'd be easier in this case to simply go with it.

"When I passed out, I saw Martin Mendez get a heart attack." I said rather suddenly as my mind wandered back to the strange tiny dream I had, and Omar chuckled.

"Like that'd ever happen, the man's a hero!" We said and laughed together in agreement, and Grovyle was pointing down towards the ground.

"Is that London there?" He said, and it seemed like it was. A sea of grey buildings covered the land below me, cut in half by the river Thames, and it was only now how I appreciated just how big the city was. All green was seemingly cut out under the mass of constructions, and I seemed like I was already lost.

"Sure is buddy!" Omar said to me. "You'll get a break very soon Dragonair!" He said, and Dragonair nodded, seeming like she was happy. "Ok, I'll guide you down, see that patch of grass there?" I switched off a bit here from what Omar was saying to his pokemon, just happy that I made it without falling to my death, but when I thought about it deeper, I was never in any immediate danger. Perhaps Omar was right, perhaps I should have trusted Dragonair more. I soon saw the small field that Omar was talking about, and it wouldn't be long before we landed in a small park, receiving a couple of looks from the children playing on the swings, but none came running over.

"Want a rest?" Omar said, returning Dragonair to her ball. "And I'll tell you something I want...a...very quick visit to that toilet over there! Just hang around there, I could be a little while!" He said extremely quickly and outright ran to the rather run down, but functional public toilets nearby. Grovyle stretched his legs by leaping into one of the trees – as little as there were – to loosen his joints and muscles while I rested my merely leaning against the tree. It was actually rather hot by my standards, and I was never one to like the heat. Anything above twenty five Celsius or thereabouts, and I'd start complaining, and at this rate, I'd be moaning about the heat soon enough. I saw Grovyle overhead leap deeper into the forest as my eyes tracked him.

"Not too far, Omar won't be long." I said, taking a few steps in to see where he was going. He signalled to me that he wasn't going far, and I gave him the thumbs up. I turned and ruffled my hair slightly as I sat down on a stump on the brim of the patch of trees, and looked lazily at the public toilets - Omar was sure taking his time. A whole minute passed as I stood up to stretch my arms, being blasted by the sun's rays, the effects of the heat now were starting to bother me. This was often the reason why I was never jealous of people taking holidays to hot places, it was a good way to insure myself not to get envious in this area.

Then something happened that was so sudden, it must have made my heart stop for a few seconds. Something large and heavy seemed to slam into me from behind with such force that it would send my crashing to the ground on my front - or that would have happened if I wasn't pulled back into this heavy thing. Before I could even work out what was going on, the side of my face was being rubbed gently, which sent me into panic as I started trying to elbow what grabbed me firmly, but my effort were fruitless and it continued to hold me tightly with what appeared to be two large blue arms. I wasn't too sure what it was, but it could well have been a swampert, and reports of these pokemon eating humans if they got the chance in the wild wasn't unheard of, and if one got you, you'd be considered lucky if it killed you first before it devoured you. It must have enjoyed sensing my fear, as it made happy sounding noises as it continued rubbing my face with the side of it's head, playing with it's imminent meal.

I screamed loudly in horror, and yet, everyone I could see who turned round just looked at me, and never even bothered doing a thing! Not even an 'oh my god!' reaction! And what was worse, I could hear a laugh from behind me! Yes, I'm sure my ultimate demise in the belly of a swampert would be so incredibly hilarious! It turned me around, confirming that it was indeed a swampert and opened it's mouth wide as I looked into the jaws of my death. I had no words to say, only a hook to the side of it's head in defiance, wanting to go down fighting and with dignity. I may have evaded the houndooms, but I wasn't going to evade death this time, and Grovyle wasn't here to save me this time. It's tongue hung from it's mouth and gave me a huge, slobbery lick, leaving me disgusted with it's smelly and slightly sticky saliva all over my face and clothes. Whether it tasting me, or tormenting me, or both, I couldn't figure out in my fear-ridden mind. It then seemed to laugh at me of all things - at this rate, I just wanted to get it over with, but then, my saviour finally came.

"Vulcan! I've been looking for you! I thought I told you to stay...ugh, again!" It was the voice of a male that sounded slightly younger than me, and I could hear him running over. "Look, you just can't go around hugging random strangers! Let him go, now - I don't think he enjoyed it at all!" 'Vulcan' looked fairly apologetic and gently put me down on the grass, where I remained shivering in fear.

"...That...thing was going to eat me!" I said in a shaky, yet slightly angry voice, for it's trainer being so irresponsible, letting a dangerous pokemon like that roam freely.

"No, it wasn't, it's just showing affection, like it tries to do to everyone it meets. I only caught him a few days ago, trust me, you're about the tenth person he's done that to, but of all others, you looked the most uncomfortable." The trainer said to me, clearly hiding a smile as the swampert stood behind him. "And to ensure your comfort, Vulcan probably couldn't eat you even if it wanted to - only the Amazon dwelling ones really do that, since they grow a bit larger, and thus can swallow larger prey. Sometimes whole and alive if it sees that it's not going to put up an adequate defence against it, as they might as well not use up additional energy by going to the effort to do so. Humans tend to be about fifty fifty whether an Amazon dwelling wild one sees it can have the chance to make one it's next meal, but Vulcan? He'd struggle eating something your size - does that ease you slightly?" He asked in a very, very direct way, which, while it caught me of guard, made me glad that he was so direct with me. It was like he rehearsed this little speech, giving me the thought that I wasn't the first one to be horrified at Vulcan's unwanted 'affection.'

"...Yes, thank you for explaining the details - too bad that your swampert's slimy skin made my clothes slightly damp and my face...ugh, did he really have to give me that slobbery lick?!" I said in a stubborn protest.

"I'm sorry about that, but he'll learn eventually to hold back his affection." The trainer said, seeming to show genuine concern.

"Yeah, and it'll be hard for me to clean my clothes at this state - I came all the way from Scotland you know!" I said, continuing to be stubborn.

"As your accent gave away - well, there's not much I can do now, except offer my apologies and promise to put more pressure on Vulcan to not hug strangers without permission." The trainer said back to me. "The name's Jake, pleased to meet you." He said, shaking my hand immediately, using both hands to do so as he got hugged by Vulcan from behind clearly not minding too much. My eyes lazily gazed upon the trainer - he was slightly shorter than me, and his brown hair and clothes were ever so slightly messy, but not as messy as I was since I never bother to comb my hair - given that it was pretty long and naturally thick and bouncy, it wouldn't be worth the effort. One curious thing I noticed on the trainer was a black wristband on his left arm, with a small reddish-pink circle inside a larger white one, with eight thick lines, the same colour as the smaller circle, coming in from the sides of the larger circle - the symbol of Palkia.

"...I see you're a Palkian." I said, folding my arms - those people, always putting happiness in front of justice, not an outlook on life that'd get my approval.

"Why, yes I am, I started following the word of Palkia about three years ago - made my life so much better ever since...something up with that?" He said, suddenly making direct eye contact, but not in a threatening, not even in a negative way at all. I smiled every so slightly as I let my arms hang by my side once again.

"Historically, we should be at each other's throats, considering my faith. So, do you guys really believe we have pokemon souls and your mission is to convince Palkia to let him live you again as that pokemon? Or is that all symbolic?" I said - it must have been a question asked to death to him, but I asked him regardless.

"Yes, actually. That applies to every - and I mean every human, including you." He said, smiling, as if he was teasing me, even though I could tell he genuinely believed it.

"So you think I have a dewott soul or some shit like that? Look, souls don't even exist - never saw any convincing reason to believe such things, and it's really kind of a stupid thing to believe. Still, it doesn't seem to be doing too much harm I guess..." I said, being blunt as a sledgehammer to him. It might have seemed like biting the hand that saved me from an overly-affectionate pokemon, but being truthful was something I always tried to make myself be.

"That was very...honest of you, spoken very much like a Dialgan." Jake said, looking a tad uncomfortable. "But I guess by your logic, it's a sign of respect?"

"Got it in one." I replied. "Would you rather I have been dishonest about what I thought of your beliefs?"

"Well...perhaps, actually. I think white lying is actually a good thing in a lot of circumstances to prevent pointless unease." I tapped my foot on the ground a couple of times, and broke eye contact for a second - Grovyle was just hanging around in the trees, not really paying attention to our conversation.

"In response to me being a typical Dialgan, that would make you a typical Palkian - always putting happiness ahead of justice. Good societies must ultimately put justice first, and then happiness can be built on that - surely even you would agree with that...fine, I won't press the matter anymore." I wanted to be honest, yes, but I was pushing it with my opinionated nature anyway. "Besides, your religion isn't a haven for nutjobs like the Giratinans, or unfortunate juggernaut Church of Arceus."

"Good point actually." Jake said to me, clearly not minding the heat as much as I was. "So what brings you to London?"

"Well, it's a little complicated, but it was supposed to be a brief stop for me and my friend travelling to the Alpine mountains for a couple of days, but due to health reasons, I have to go back."

"Really?" He said, inspecting me just a little. "You seem perfectly healthy to me."

"I'm not sure why, but apparently flying on a Dragonair in the sky makes me prone to sudden passing out, and since we have no idea how it happened, we'd think it'd be best if I just went back home." Jake paused for a moment, thinking.

"Wait a minute...from the phone call I got about an hour ago...it's a long shot, but you're not Omar's friend, are you?" My eyes widened open in shock.

"Holy shit, you really do pay attention! Indeed I am! I hope I made a decent first impression!" I laughed kind of nervously, knowing it wasn't the case at all.

"Well, I've meet nicer people, but I've seen a lot worse. Does that answer your question?" He asked me back.

"Indeed so, and thank you for your honesty." I said and paused slightly. "Omar's been over ten minutes in the toilet! I'll get him to hurry up." I ran over to the toilet impatiently. "Omar, are you taking the mother of all shits in there or something?" I said fairly loudly, but not loudly enough to infect the ears of the children somewhat nearby.

"No...the snack I brought with me was way out of date.." Omar said, opening the door, looking a little pale, and it was clear that he did throw up a bit in the toilet. "It only hit me when we landed, but I'll be fine now I think..." He said walking out slowly, using the door for support until he found his feet.

"Jake's right over there by the way." I said, pointing at him, being slightly blinded by the sun, which was brightening the rather pristine park with it's well cut grass more than it needed to be.

"Hey!" Omar called over and walked slowly over to him, and they greeted each other with a hug - seems like Jake was just as much of a huggy guy as Omar was. I followed Omar over to the rest of them.

"Anyway, about the teleportation thing...I see you've already met Floyd, I hope he didn't slug you with his religious views, haha!" Omar said, fooling around.

"Well he is quite the Dialgan, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't heavily into religion as well, so how've you been?" Jake said back to him as they went into casual small talk. Jake returned his swampert before it could hug Omar, much to Omar's evident disappointment, who looked like he was about to hug it back anyway. I zoned out of their conversation, wiping the sweat off my brow as Grovyle followed me from behind.

"I've been wondering Floyd - if I were to go with Omar, think he'd mind?" I looked round at him, almost being a little offended by this in a way. I liked keeping my close friends very close, and I found that it really bruised my ego and self esteem to have close friends wander away and not see you as much. He had been awful friendly with Omar, and it made me feel uneasy somehow.

"...I dunno, I guess you'd have to ask him." I said abnormally slowly. I did wonder if of late if I had been becoming a bit of a jerk towards Grovyle. My mind scrolled through a reasons of other possibilities. Adventure? Yes, that would be it. Grovyle was probably in this for himself as well – I bet he wanted to go as much as Omar. I wasn't normally an optimistic person, but for now, I decided to apply optimism for a change.

"Heh, I still can't believe I had a mutual conversation with a Palkian - my dad - when he was my age and started becoming heavily involved with Dialgism, he was outright xenophobic towards them, but now, he realises that the tension has died out, and it was written before Arceism took a hold in Europe." I said to Grovyle, making chit-chat to him, while also trying to make my dad seem like a good person in his eyes. He responded with a mere nod of the head as we caught up with Omar and Jake.

"...So you want teleported all they way to Edinburgh? The furthest Joel has ever teleported someone was Manchester, I'm honestly not entirely sure if he can teleport someone that great a distance, but I'll see what he and I can do." Jake said to me as we approached his house.

"How do your parents let you start having clients for this sort of thing? Strangers coming into the house frequently and all that sort of stuff." Omar said as we walked inside. It was a nice wee place, with a very structured living room, with everything stacked against the walls in an orderly fashion to allow the biggest 'walking space' available.

"Simple, they agreed to let me as long as I gave them forty percent of what I earn." He said to Omar before calling out. "Joel! We have another client!" An alakazam walked slowly from down the stairs, looking in what could only be described as looking sleepy yet very alert somehow, making me quite confused to what it could be feeling or thinking about. Unlike the portrayal in a lot of fictional mediums, this one just walked down slowly and casually rather than hover using physic powers, which would make sense, since I did hear that pokemon using psychic powers often strained their minds when using. Joel made no sound, and merely looked at Jake, it's well treated moustache reflecting some of the light off it. I could see what Omar meant it about it being a pampered pokemon, as it looked far cleaner, more hygienic and healthier than pretty much all the other pokemon I saw. It was clearly, it was fed on a high quality diet as well - none of the value supermarket own brand stuff.

"Ok, this one will be difficult - he lives very far away, all the way up in Scotland. Shall we go upstairs and try to help you focus on the location?" Joel merely nodded as all four of us followed him upstairs into what appeared to be Jake's bedroom. He briskly switched on his screen, since the computer was left on to begin and began searching for Edinburgh on the map with haste to show the alakazam where about to teleport me. He gave Joel some basic instructions, and told him if he could focus in on a particular area as show by the photos of Edinburgh from the Internet.

"Are you trying to out-devout me to your god?" I said, and laughed in a friendly manner, seeing not one, but two of those strange burners that has some sort of Palkian eastern spirituality mumbo-jumbo meaning. I knew that Palkism had its roots in China, and as if the religion itself was fighting for survival, very suddenly started to get quite a lot people in the western world to follow it as communism started taking a hold of China under Mao Zedong's iron fisted rule and snuffed out all religion in the poor oppressed nation, and thus, about four percent of people in Britain had converted Palkism in this present, and the numbers continue to rise.

"Haha, well my parents did see it as a being a bit odd that I was enlightened by Palkia a few years back - let's just say it took my dad a bit longer to warm up to it than my mum. This is a big Arceist family and whatnot, but I didn't see the need to hide it as neither of my parents were really heavily into it." He said back to me, and briefly checking up on his alakazam, who had never made a single noise since I first saw it, and seemed to be concentrating.

"My dad's a priest, a high priest to be exact. I get a lot of remarks saying I'm only heavily into Dialgism because of my dad's influences. It does make me wonder though, would I still be a Dialgan if my dad wasn't one? I'd still say it's definitely for the best that I am one though. Much like you said, oddly enough - my life got better once I started taking my faith more seriously. Really helps me to make moral judgements and decisions far quicker, easier and with more certainty."

"I guess you and me are alike in that regard." Jake said back, smiling slightly until I very suddenly spoke.

"But our moral criteria and basis are very different." I said very quickly, as if I wanted to keep my distance slightly from this fellow. "My moral values don't allow for tyranny of the majority, helps towards making sure bad deeds receive negative consequences to those who done it, and encourage good deeds not for a reward in a false afterlife, but for the sake of doing the good deed in itself."

"But, and according to just about every survey, Dialgans tend to be the least happy out of all the main religions and creeds, or lack thereof, in the world. It might not apply to you, but it's just the statistics." My eyebrows narrowed very slightly when Jake said this.

"...Dialga didn't say that following his path would be easy.." I said, and just then, Joel tapped Jake on the shoulder, getting his attention. He gave him some very strange hand signals, that Jake seemed to understand somehow.

"Ok, this will be possible, but there's two problems. One, it'll take Joel about forty minutes of intense concentration at a guess, and secondly, at this sort of range, we won't be able to teleport you onto an exact spot, and we could be at least a hundred meters off our intended location. To stop you from running a large risk of being teleported on a road and being ran over, you'll have to make do with being put on a patch of fields just outside. It might be a couple of miles away from the nearest bus stop, would that be Ok?" He asked me, getting more down to buisness.

"Yea, that'll be fine." I said, looking at the time - it was coming up for six o'clock.

"Hey Omar - I haven't seen you in person for months, I wouldn't mind some catch up time. You in a hurry to get over to the Alps?" Jake said, turning to Omar, leaving Joel to his own devices.

"Not exactly, no. I'd be struggling to be doing anything in particular if I arrived there by mid to late evening anyway. Yeah, some catch up time would be very good actually, huh huh!" Omar said back to him, clearly not feeling sick at all anymore. It was at this point that Grovyle finally made a move, and offered to shake Jake's hand.

"...Hello..." He said in a slightly nervous voice. He always seemed shy, but then again, I really can't blame the fellow at all, considering the problem with a talking pokemon being a very unusual phenomenon, and yet Jake reacted almost as casually as Omar did, even if Jake did seem to be very surprised looking between the lines of his expression.

"Oh hey! You've been quiet - you got a name?" Jake asked.

"Just call me Grovyle." He said, which by now seemed to be an automatic response to when anyone asked him if he had a name or not - those exact four words." Oh by the way, I take it that teleporting me back as well would be out of the question?" My eyes raised at this - I never expected him to ask Jake personally, and I did wonder why. "It was a question Floyd forgot to ask, he can be forgetful at times if he gets rolling on a conversation about religion." Omar chuckled at this, which I didn't mind too much, because I knew it was kind of true.

"Well, it'll probably take four hours for Joel to get his mind cleared after that, and I'll have to charge extra for..." Omar suddenly spoke out about this.

"Wait, you're charging us? Could have told us that before!" He said, showing annoyance, something Omar rarely ever did.

"I'm only charging enough to keep Joel here well treated. When it comes to friends, and friends of friends, I'm practically giving him the service for a third of the price - is £30 that much to ask for? I'm sorry if it's making me look like a jerk, but this teleportation buisness is really, really taxing on Joel. You couldn't even begin to imagine what he goes through to make this work. Why do you think when such pokemon suddenly have teleport for an escape, they can only go a few hundred meters at a time?" Jake said, putting his foot down slightly - while inconvenient for me, I guess it was only fair.

"Hey, I could just run to a bank machine, I should have my debit card in my pocket..." I said, putting my hand in my pocket, just to make sure it was actually there.

"I got you into this Floyd, I'm to blame as well." Omar responded.

"I really would have preferred it if you could pay me now, but if you're paying, I guess we could wait until after your friend's gone. It's not exactly an emergency to be fair, not to mention the nearest machine's about a twenty minute walk away." I almost liked Jake for this in a way - it was a bit unfair on him and his pokemon after all. "Here, take the teleportation pill." He said and handed me one, which I swallowed very quickly, hoping that it'd prevent me from getting too ill from the upcoming instantaneous travel.

"Wow, you're almost sounding like a Dialgan there, good on you!" I said, grinning at Jake. "Besides Omar, I thought you had barely any money left."

"Hrm...it's true, man. Eh, and besides, I still need to repay you after you essentially rescued me from that time I was too drunk to stand when I was at the other side of the city from my house." Omar said, looking a bit embarrassed. He was quite a drinker, and while the incident a month ago was probably the worst, I was essentially his reluctant wing-man half the time.

"...Ah, just pay-pal me when you can." Jake said. "And thank you for the rather strange compliment Floyd."

"He has a habit of giving out those." Grovyle said and smirked at me, always looking for opportunities to be a tease towards me."

"Oh, quiet you! It was genuine!" I said, jerking my head towards Grovyle.

"See, Jake, this is why they live together - they bicker like an old couple. Can't stop throwing blows at each other, but can't be without each other for too long." Omar said while smiling broadly, and just beside him, I saw the alakazam move his right arm, tapping Jake on the leg.

"Ok, that's him zoned in on the general area. Now, you'll have to sit here on the floor, and the next part will begin in a minute." Jake said, and I did as I was told. This whole room seemed covered in this eastern religion, and as uptight as I seemed, I didn't like it. I felt so damn out of place here, and to go even further, I wouldn't even dream of setting foot in a church or other religious building that didn't follow Dialga. Atheists are half way to becoming Dialgans as far as I was concerned given they're not lead astray by false religions, and given that they share the same lack of spiritual beliefs, I got on with them well for the most part Omar and possibly Grovyle being the best examples, considering Grovyle has been very tight-lipped about what he believes in.

Then it hit me like a brick as I fell asleep very suddenly once more, hearing Jake say 'wait, Joel hasn't started the hypnosis yet!' and mummers from the other two as I zoomed into that strange light once more. Now, watching Martin Mendez get a heart attack was shocking as it was sad, but it was nothing to what I immediately dreamed up this time. All was blackness and it felt like I was floating in a complete void, all five on my senses not picking up a single thing from the faintest of whispering winds to the smell of my own odour. It didn't feel like blackness was closing in, but instead, it felt like the nothingness was spreading out from me. I realised I was all alone, aside from only one thing shared this empty place with me, and that thing seemed to be moving closer. The details were impossible to make out aside from blurry blotches of red white and blue, but whatever that was whatever suddenly faded and retreated back into the blackness, only to be replaced with something far larger was closing in. All I could see were two red ominous lights which I assumed were eyes, glowing ever so slightly and revealing no details, accompanied by frantic breathing - a monster?

It only got worse when I managed to get a closer look. It was terrifying enough to freeze my nerves solid, even though I knew that this was merely an odd dream. It stood right in front of me, and yet didn't acknowledge my existence, much like Mendez. There was strange, dark orange, think glowing lines that seemed to go across it's limbs, and when the dull light refracted through whatever it's body made of, I got an idea of who this thing might be. Dialga. It seemed to roughly resemble what I thought Dialga himself might have looked like with the description of 'crystalline metal' but this was a rather warped version or what I thought about Dialga. Instead of the righteous, noble, and just aura that Dialga seemed to emit as described as the prophet Ivan Nazar, there was nothing but rage, fear, and outright insanity, as if his mind has been reduced to that of a mere animal who thought it was in constant danger - or at least that's how it seemed anyway. Such a concept really did seem outlandish, and I knew fine well this wasn't real or whether it was even Dialga or not, and a timely roar from Dialga sent me right out of the dream and I woke up, finding myself sitting, rather than lying on Jake's bedroom floor.

"Woah nelly, that was little scary, but hey - the real word rocks, doesn't it, haha!" I said and continued to laugh awkwardly, but me passing out for the second time in a day was actually deeply concerning.

"...Ok, Floyd - I really suggest seeing someone about this. To think, what if you suddenly passed out like this if you were driving? I wouldn't stick around after you get home - if you can't see someone tonight, go tomorrow, and don't take the car, whatever you do!" Grovyle said, folding his arms.

"Grovyle, you are not my dad! How many times do I have to say this?" I said, expressing annoyance, yet I couldn't help but smile at him. He was a really loyal friend to me, and it was worth him smothering me ever so slightly.

"Grovyle has a point, I really don't want my bassist killed! It's hard to find one who owns a six string who plays extreme tech metal!" Omar said, making a joke out of it all, and yet, it remained in good taste with me.

"Oh, so me being friends with me isn't good enough, eh?" I said and laughed fairly loudly, but I was interrupted by Jake again.

"Ok, next step, Joel here will put you to sleep, and when you wake up, you should be in a field just outside Edinburgh." He said to me, still trying to stay professional.

"Now, as much as I scorn at your religious beliefs, there's one thing I've wanted to know about your religion." I said to Jake, who seemed to accustomed to my constant questioning of his faith. "What exactly makes you believe that we all have pokemon souls anyway?"

"Simple - Arceus was too lazy to make actual human souls, so he just shoved the souls of pokemon into us, since it still works for him."

"To be honest, if souls do exist, I wouldn't put it past Arceus. My religion also states that he really did nothing after the initial creation of the universe. And I'm being flat out honest here. Well, it was nice meeting you." I said and offered a hand to shake just before Joel was going hypnotise me. "We probably won't meet again, so I wish you the best in your life, and the next one if you Palkians somehow end up being correct. Farewell!" I said and looked at Joel who locked eyes with me, and seemed to get inside my very head and flicked a switch in my mind that controlled whether I was awake or asleep, and I fell asleep very quickly after that.

I don't know how long I was out for, but it couldn't have been for too long, as it wasn't dark yet. The field which I found myself in was slightly damp, and looking to my left, I saw the grand city of Edinburgh in all its splendour. The park and ride stop was a mere five minute walk away, but it was enough to get my shoes and feet soggy, which was a real discomfort, and yet, it wasn't as annoying as stepping on that little bit of water in the kitchen floor that you couldn't see with your socks on - that always pissed me off. Trying to not bring too much attention to myself, I sheepishly climbed over the fence that wasn't next to the road, which was actually rather tricky since it was covered with bushes and slowly jogged to the small station, seeing a bus that would take me very close to my house. I was keeping very alert for any signs for me passing out again, firmly opening my eyes to even an uncomfortable degree. Taking out my bus pass, I used a journey on it as I climbed up to the higher floor, and then saw someone who I didn't expect.

"...Mum? Hey there!" I said, as she waved at me as I sat on the seat opposite her. "Haven't seen you in about two months, sorry for not visiting."

"That aside, how have you been Floyd?" She said, as the bus started driving towards the city, the green fields falling behind us.

"Well, there was a very unusual turn of events that lead me to this spot here. I'd tell you what happened, but I'd be twenty minutes, and I have an important call to make once I get home."

"Oh, I see. You're cloths look damp, you been out in the rain earlier again?" She said to me, showing that she had not lost her parental instincts.

"Like I said, long story. So how come you're using a bus? Thought you always drove your delivery truck." I asked her, and she sighed somewhat sadly, turning to look out the window at a petrol station before looking back.

"Fuel prices...they went through the roof - the buses are more cost effective, even if I do hate them." I knew that she had become very attached to her delivery truck, and she often worked well with non-chain shops who try to boost their sales by bragging about local food sources, and she'd often get hired by them to get fresh food delivered from the farms themselves. She also used it for general travel, but it seemed like it had become too expensive recently to do so practically in some cases.

"Yeah, same here, at least I have a smaller vehicle. I take it you're just heading home?" I asked her.

"Yes, I was just seeing one of my friends in Dalkeith. These buses are so uncomfortable, wouldn't you agree?" I nodded slightly before she suddenly spoke again, changing the subject completely and utterly. "I am sorry for being hostile towards your dad just before we broke up, and I really shouldn't have taken it out on you when you were a mere child, and I really didn't blame you for wanting to stay with your dad over me back then."

"You've mentioned this quite a lot, like, every second time I visit you. That's over ten years in the past, and I'm doing very well for myself, and weren't you happier after you split up with my dad?"

"Well...I have been wondering lately - if I didn't mind you being partially raised on your dad's religion, or if he wasn't heavily into Dialganism...would we have still been together? It's bothering me a lot lately, since there was so much I liked in him, and yet, it just took one thing to drive us apart. It's sad, really." She said, and I had no idea how to comfort her - she didn't seem too sad, but she wasn't cheerful at all right now. I was really terrible at knowing how to comfort people, and most of the time, all I could do is stand there and feel ashamed that there was nothing I could feel that I could do to help, but I did try sometimes nonetheless.

"Hey, you've been far more sure of yourself ever since you got your job as a delivery-woman. Kirk then became a priest, what he wanted to be - would you not say that the separation was for the best overall?" I said as the bus slowed down at her stop.

"I guess you're right Floyd, it's all just speculation. I hope I can see you again soon, and best of luck in your band, even if I can't stand metal." She said, smiling slightly for me - I didn't expect her to like my music anyway.

"Indeed so, goodbye mum!" I said as I saw her get off the bus and start walking home. The passing out issue then suddenly returned to my thoughts, and it never left until I arrived home, and by now, it was really getting dark, it must have been about nine o'clock by now. The very first thing I did when I got in is, as you would expect, phone the NHS twenty-four hour help line.

"Hello?" The woman on the other side mentioned.

"Hi, today, I passed out very sporadically twice today, and for seemingly no rhyme or reason, feeling just fine before, and after the passing out." I explained

"Ok sir, would you like an appointment with a GP?"

"Yes please, that'd be great." I replied - good, now I might be able to get this sorted.

"Ok, give me a moment to take your details..." She said, and I explained them very quickly, in case I was going to pass out again. I now had this feeling of dread that never left me, knowing that I could potentially pass out at any second.

"...Ok, is that all?" I said after I had finished.

"Right, I can get you an appointment for 3 o'clock Edenhall Hospital for five weeks today, is that alright? Sorry, there's been a nasty bug going around Edinburgh, that's why the queues are so long." Five weeks...fuck, this would really be a problem - five whole weeks under the fear that I could pass out at any moment? There was so much things that I normally do that I knew it wouldn't be safe doing, and not just driving - if I were to pass out on stage, crossing the road, even working in the supermarket could be dodgy!

"...Yes, that will have to do, thank you." I said and ended the call before lying on the bed with bitter disappointment and bewilderment. I never thought anything of what I saw when I passed out, they were really just dreams, no different to what I do when I fall asleep properly, but something I saw seven weeks down the line changed all that forever.

My alarm woke me up, showing me no mercy as it's horrible ringing sound forced me out of bed. I had to get up earlier to get to work since I was now taking buses everywhere, and I ate and got dressed very quickly. Ever since, I only ever passed out once - when I was watching some TV with Grovyle, and I dreamed I was watching two annoying pair of Arceist doom-sayers walking around the neighbourhood where my dad lived who claimed that the world was going to end in about fifteen years and those not part of their little sect with receive eternal torture. I guessed the dream took place in the past of some kind since my dad hadn't painted the door until a year ago, and the door outside my father's flat looked very shabby in the dream as they left him alone to continue climbing the stairs to pester other people. Annoying fuckers, they were, but it did surprise me how much I remembered them, even though I usually only passed out for about two minutes - perhaps it was part of this illness I picked up or whatever it was. Unlike the other two, I had an incredible headache with that one, yet it was only when I looked roughly at the direction of my father's flat that I got said headache for reasons I couldn't even begin to speculate.

Grovyle was still asleep by now, and I had ten minutes to spare, so I briefly logged on to my computer to quickly check my E-mails and Facebook - when I logged onto Facebook, I saw a message that Tom, a prankster friend of mine who sadly moved to Canada about six years ago, posted on his own page which said 'Martin Mendez almost died of a heart attack! :O'. Haha, nice one Tom - he knew fine well I was an Opeth fan boy, and this one was probably directed at me, and yet, something at the back of my mind was annoying me. I remembered I dreamed about him leaving the band when I passed out when I was riding on Radhi's dragonair. I guess it wouldn't hurt to give him the benefit of the doubt and check more recognizes sources. It was then when my heart-rate doubled, and my breathing became three times as fast - all I had to do was type 'Martin Mendez' in on Google, and one of the suggested completed terms was 'Martin Mendez heart attack.' This was a prank, it had to be! A very widespread joke that went viral! I ran through all the sources on the Google search, each one agreeing with the last, before I came to Mendez's website itself, and it confirmed the truth to me – he had really suffered a near=fatal heart attack, and it was predicted that he might not be able to recover enough to work with the band again

"WHAT?" I screamed, and I heard Grovyle wake up and jump right beside me.

"Floyd? What is it?" He asked, but the more I thought about it, the more crazy shit I thought of. The fact I had a dream about Martin Mendez getting a heart attack seven weeks before it happened was downright scary, and of what else I saw - Dialga descending into insanity. That terrified me more than anything else in this recent fiasco, and this was quite possibly the scariest thought and moment of my life in many, many years.


	4. Happy Birthday?

Pokemon: The Unknown Continuum: Scenes From A Memory

Chapter 4: Happy Birthday?

The visions - they were still coming. They came when they wanted to, and I had absolutely no say at all in what they'd say or do or whatever. Thankfully, they only seemed to occur when Grovyle was around, so I could at least control that, well, most of the time at least - he could get a little clingy at times in spite of me encouraging him to see Omar here and then. Speaking of which, it happened to be his 23rd birthday today, being a bit older than me. While I was looking forward to it, I knew his drinking habits would come full force there.

The news seemed to be getting more panicky about the days supposedly being longer, but I honestly wasn't buying into it in spite of me getting that scary Dialga image months back - just can't see it happening, and really, was there evidence that my visions were all accurate? I'd get them about the most random things that made absolutely no sense, such as my dad as a wee child getting yelled at by his parents for not following the holy way of Arceus, as they put it, over becoming friends with a guy called Isaak. I knew my dad never saw eye to eye with his parents, but as pointless as it was, it was curious to see this little snippet of his conversion to Dialgism unfold.

The news today? Some wee girl got murdered. Poor wee lassie, but I wasn't really interested – I already had faith that the justice system will imprison the killer, and as a result, I felt very detached over the whole thing. Then another segment of the slowing days, which was apparently now fifteen minutes behind, with fairly frequent reminders about clocks, and how they should stay put and not to panic about it, which was ironically made harder by the news always bringing it up. I usually kept with the local news channels as the news station was now interviewing local religious leaders on the matter - perhaps the scientists were getting annoyed with all the press.

One of the more batshit crazy Arceists claimed that this is likely part of Arceus's punishment for the slow decline in followers and influence in society over the decade and that we should all convert to stop it from happening - stupid scaremonger scumbag! I really shouldn't have been too surprised to see the press catch my dad while he was on his way to an early lunch, considering he was the most prominent figure in Dialgism in Edinburgh. Thankfully, he seemed fairly happy to speak to them, and wasn't an uptight prick like the other Arceist, or was a recluse like this Palkian sage was, storming away from the crowds.

"Well, it's obviously not measurement errors anymore, but I would actually say not to worry about it too much." Kirk said, which both surprised those around him and myself, with murmuring setting in a low drone over the sound.

"The scientists should really be the only ones to lose sleep over it, since they're trying to suss it all out, but as for the rest of us? Well, there's absolutely nothing we can do about it, so I'd say we should make like good British citizens and keep calm and carry on. The gods aren't going to mess up that badly, surely! I don't think we need to worry about armageddon or anything like that." He said and chuckled genuinely - I guess he didn't anything horrible would happen as a result either, yet I couldn't help but wonder if it was a possibility. I think I'll apply Occam's razor and assume it's ridiculous - there's been many doomsday prophecies and predictions that were all a load of shit, hence, I'm full of shit for even considering it.

This existence would last forever - we're being watched over by the immortal time lord, after all! Perhaps it could be possible that my dad and I saw the past, perhaps the birth of time itself. Dialga did tell the prophet that it was an extremely discordant place full of trial and error regarding the laws of existence itself, which seemed far more likely than Dialga ever messing up at some time in the future.

And yet the possibility of incoming armageddon did in a very frightening way make sense - could the slowing planet be caused by Dialga somehow going insane in accordance to our visions? Well, I guess it just seemed inconceivable as I really couldn't even comprehend a calamity on that scale - I guess other people were thinking that as well, as there seemed to be surprisingly little blind panic. Good thing that law and order are still very much in effect as societies guardian, and the police were still doing their job very well in spite of what most people my age would say.

"I guess you'll be drinking with Omar today then." Grovyle said, dropping down from the ceiling - Dialga only knows how he can climb on the ceiling like that. Call him Spidergrovyle for all I care!

"Yes, and don't bother trying to convince me otherwise - it's his 23rd and I really don't want to dampen it for him by having to whine the bad shit that drinking can cause, and I don't care how much you insist on it." I said, butting in before he could complain yet again. "Besides, when you got curious about booze...ehehe, I had never seen you that cheerful before!"

"And I still regret it." He said, folding his arms and grunting slightly.

"Quit being a killjoy! Anyway, I'll be leaving soon by the way, so you got the house to yourself unless you want to come and see Omar with me, I'm sure he wouldn't mind at all."

"Oh of course - after all, I need to make sure that you don't-"

"There you go again!" I said, raising my voice. "I don't need looked after or anything! Look, if you're coming, I want you to come because you want to have a good time, right?"

"...I was going on to say that." He said, and stopped being so grumpy as he gave me a cheeky smile. I was starting to pack a few things into my bag including Omar's present when a very sudden and interesting news announcement came on screen, this time coming from the international news segment - this was relevant to say the least!

"Yesterday in California, a woman, forty-one years of age, won $180,000 the California State Lottery Mega Millions, and what she had to say about it was highly shocking. Emma Watts reports." The anchorman said before the camera changed to said reporter, standing alongside the lottery winner.

"...And you said you had a dream five weeks before the lottery draw happened?" She said to the older looking woman.

"I did." The lottery winner said, carrying a very thick accent. "I was just resting on my couch waiting for my dinner to be finished cooking when I suddenly fell asleep and saw the date on a TV screen and the winning numbers being announced. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I decided to try those numbers for luck, and then I won!" I've shown plenty of people the proof that I did not make this story up for publicity, since as soon as I woke up again, I saved those numbers on my phone, and you can check the date in which I wrote them down, you can see it was indeed about five weeks ago."

"Absolutely fascinating, one more quick question before another news crew take you away." She said, as the camera briefly turned around to see dozens of news crews all clamouring in to try and get a word with her, all shouting at one another trying to push through in a chaotic mess. "Some people have been claiming that you are, well, psychic." Clearly, this reporter was very sceptical.

"Who knows, I might be!" She said, before laughing. "But I'll tell you all now that if I am, I had no idea at the time and did not use some ancient voodoo or some new age 'heebee jeebee' to cheat, I just want to make that clear now."

"Thank you for your time, I'll leave you to the other news crews now." She said, chuckling while turning to the camera again, the supposed psychic getting mobbed by more microphones and cameras. "Well do you think she's psychic? Send your thoughts at the website stated below, and I'll sign off here. This is Emma Watson, over to you Carl."

"...Perhaps my dad and I weren't the only ones. Well, based on what we know, anyway. To think though, she had the damn luckiest vision ever!" I said, lifting my bag. "Still, it's pretty damn sleazy to take advantage of this vision thing, but it's not like she knew it was a premonition anyway."

"Oh, Floyd - remember, I can't come into the car with you in case you black out again - you've never had one when I wasn't around, have you?"

"Nope, and I can't help but wonder if you're secretly causing them, haha!" I said as we laughed as I picked up Omar's present. "Eh, I guess we might find out eventually - still no idea what causes me to have them, or my dad and that woman on the news."

"Hrm...wait, you're getting him one of the new pokeballs? I thought they were expensive as hell, and you don't even like the idea of pokemon training!" Grovyle said, taking it from me and inspecting it with inquisitive eyes, being sure not to accidentally press the button before passing it back.

"Yeah, they can catch most species of pokemon, unlike the more common pokeballs which are assigned to only catch a specific species. It's really new technology, finally allowing people to improvise a bit if they're out looking for pokemon to catch. I wouldn't have got him it if I won it in a British Heart Foundation charity raffle. U was wanting to trade it for the laptop that one of the other lads won since I knew he was real into all the training stuff just like Omar is, but he said he'd rather have the laptop - these things are valued at five hundred pounds you know!" I said, putting the box close to his face.

"And you resisted the temptation to sell it? That's more selfless than you've ever been Floyd, is something up?"

"I, ehehe...I spilt water on Omar's pedal board a couple of months back." I laughed nervously as I put it inside its box and into my bag, sweating slightly as the sun shone through the window and right onto my face.

"Damn sun...eh, we all need it eh?" I moved out of the sun's rays before it could dazzle me too much. "As I was saying, I cost him just over four hundred as I accidentally blew every single one of the effect pedals, and it goes to show that he's a real good guy not falling out for me over it. Still, I do really owe him something big for that, and that pokeball I won presented me with that opportunity, so In hindsight, it's probably for the best that I got the pokeball to begin with. He did want me to pay him back for it eventually whenever I could, and for good reason. Still makes me regret ever being that careless – badly!"

"Count your blessings and seemingly convoluted luck at times Floyd - if you didn't win the raffle-" He said, giving me yet again the stern teacher look - who does this pokemon think he is anyway?!

"Then I would have paid him off eventually for it - besides, the pokeball is worth more than the pedal board, so it also qualifies as the present, no? Please, excuse my pragmatism! See you at Omar's place in just under an hour!" I said, before walking off with a grump, shutting the door loudly behind me, leaving Grovyle to make his window exits like he usually does.

As much as I grumbled with Grovyle, I seriously hope that I'm not annoying him too much. I actually liked arguing with him at times, and in that regard, I wouldn't have the cheeky sod any other way, and if he were to stop living with me, I'd actually be upset. My mind was drifting between him and Omar throughout the entire journey in my car, paying less attention than I should to the driving under the roasting heat of midsummer's day as I felt myself bake slowly in my car, and not even the open windows did me much good as I sat, slowly cooking as I waited for the red lights to turn green.

Turning into the car park, I paid and started heading up. Panting like a dog and having my face and body covered in sweat, my clothes became even more clingy than Omar when he's drunk - I sure hope he lets me use his shower before he inevitably decides to go to the pubs.

"Hey hey hey dude! Come in!" Omar said, leading me into his flat, which was a lot messier than mine, as dirty clothes were piled in one untidy heap in the corner, with the rest of them being scattered across the floor. He didn't earn nearly as much as I did due to my shrewd betting and only had the room to himself, the kitchen and bathrooms were shared with other flatmates here. The whole place stank slightly of, well, Omar - it was never usually this bad, but I guess Omar felt lazy right now - why bother with stuff like this on your twenty-first birthday after all!

"Say, that's a huge fucking dragonite model sitting - wait, it's real?!" I said, accidentally spitting upon 'real', spraying it ever so slightly with saliva - I guess I can't complain about Omar's messiness now!

"Aye, she evolved already..." Omar said. Thankfully, I didn't wake it up, I don't think she'd appreciate me doing that at all as it slept very quietly for something that probably couldn't stand upright in the flat. I was surprised why Omar let something that big sleep in the house! And of all things, Omar seemed a little upset about her evolving into a dragonite - space issues, or was he just really attached to her being a dragonair?

"And that's bad?" I said, still not taking my eyes off her, as I stood back from it, just in case it did wake. I didn't trust her at this time - what if she completely changed personalities and attitudes upon evolving.

"She wasn't even a dragonair for a year! It's unhealthy for pokemon to evolve this quickly, I'm worried about her man." He said, looking at her closely as she slowly woke up, with Omar gently stroking her nose - he seemed rather affectionate towards her.

"She looks fine to me..." I said, putting my bag down on the couch, but when I turned around, she was fully awake and looking right at me. Boy did she seem happy to see me as she suddenly grabbed me with her rather stubby arms at a range I didn't expect her to and locked me in a hug so tight that it was painful.

"Gak! Omar, just return her, will you?" She wasn't hugging me tightly enough to injure me, but only just as she wrapped her fairly small wings around me and snuggled me as if I was some kind of soft toy while making highly joyful sounding...dragonite noises. I struggled to breathe amongst all the affection as she nuzzled my face gently, looking overjoyed to cuddle up to me - even as a dragonair, she wasn't this affectionate to Omar let alone me!

"I meant mentally, as you can see..." Omar said, and trailed off into a snigger.

"What's so fuckin' funny about this?! This is actually a little painful here!" I said, trying to force the air and words out of my throat. Struggling free was of course futile against such a large and powerful creature such as Dragonite here. "Do something!"

"...Sorry, but what I am seeing right here - it's actually really adorable man! I'm gonna take a picture, huh huh!" He said, as I heard him take a couple of pictures before climbing on the sofa to take another one to make sure I was in view. "And one where I can see you...got it!" I looked up at Omar, giving him a nasty glare - he knew that I didn't appreciate affection, less so from a pokemon, but then Omar finally got the message. Thankfully...

"Dragonite, if you don't let him go, it's back in the ball for you!" He said, finally taking command as Dragonite whined and finally let me go as I fell on the floor, feeling a little crushed by her hug.

"Ooohhh..." I said, getting up and falling on the couch, hoping Omar won't mind. "I think I'll be OK."

"See what I mean? She acts like a complete child. She never had the chance to mentally mature enough as a Dragonair - I might have to see a professional about it. When she first evolved, and I kid you not, she kept me in a hug like that for eight straight hours! I missed work, and she could have had me fired there! Still, I'd hate to see her go, and I think it'll all be better once she calms down. Half the time she insists on hugging the opponent during battles instead of fighting it properly, but she has actually hugged opponents to defeat a few times, so I can't whine too much now can I! I just hope she doesn't go hugging complete strangers, but it's really clear that she just loves humans like us on the whole." He said, sitting beside me before getting me a can of cider.

"Ah, remembering I don't like beer? Good man!" I said, sitting up and opening the can, which thankfully didn't bubble over onto the carpet. "And I have something better than that for your birthday!" I said and dug out the all purpose pokeball. "All yours buddy!"

"Eh...no way! One of the new catch almost anything you like ones?! How much did you spend on this man, surely I'm not worth that much?!" He said in disbelief, marvelling at the pokeball, seeming to find it hard to believe it wasn't a trick. Now as much as I wanted to say I forked out half a thousand for the thing to make myself look like the best friend ever, it simply wasn't true - I respect Omar enough to give him the honest truth, even as a non Dialgan.

"...I won it in a raffle, Omar. I've got no use for it since I'm not getting into training at all. Catch anything you like with it, even if I don't like the idea of pokemon training too much." I said, smiling warmly at him, while he still inspected the entire ball to make sure it wasn't a trick.

"This is the real deal! With this, I don't have to worry about getting particular balls for specific species!" My smile started to waver slightly as I cleared my throat quietly as the wavering smile became nervous - this could make me look like a prick here.

"...Can this also count as calling of the debt? Eh..." I said, sweating in anxiety this time - would the value of the present to him be diminished if he saw that I also had some gain in it as well?

"Considering you could have sold it for at least four hundred...sure! Besides, you didn't even mean for that to happen man, it's cool. I wasn't going to try and force it from you if you couldn't spare it past living costs anyway."

"Good, excellent even!" I said, my voice squeaking slightly, relieved that Omar's warm friendly glow never changed. "I take it we're not having a gaming and drinking night then - I suppose you'll be wanting us to go over to the pubs again."

"Oh aye, meeting a lot of people at the Braidburn Inn on the south outskirts of the city. You are coming you know, huh huh!" Amidst Omar's distinguishable laughter, the buzzer rang - I could only guess this would by Douglas, who was also close friends with Omar. "Even Jake's coming all the way from London, and we're meeting him at the inn as well. He's made a small fortune recently, sent his two pokemon to a spa while he's coming to to visit me this weekend, huh huh!" He stoop up to answer the door

"I'll get it man, and don't worry Dragonite's asleep again she won't hug you again!" He said as he walked fairly slowly towards the door. I merely looked at my can and took another drink from it when I heard Omar stutter some weird shit to whoever was standing there.

"...Uh...Floyd...eh...how are you here when..." I had no idea what the blazes he was on about, or if he was even talking to me or the person at the door to begin with! Omar sounded even more confused with his unnatural stammering, given how cheerful and laid back he usually was.

"You talkin' to me back there Omar? Want me to come over?" I asked but got no response as I heard a voice that sounded so strange, yet so similar it felt like the default voice I encountered in my life. I really didn't like the sound of it, it really put me off somehow as I listened in closely, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Hello, Omar, I have come for game night, I am sorry that I am late, shall I come in?" He said in a very formal tone. He sounded Scottish, that's for sure, so it can't be a relative from Dubai - in fact, the voice sounded very similar to mine. "Please, do ignore these scabbed-over gashes, they are only mildly painful, please don't let it ruin your birthday man! Look, I'll even give you a hug if you really want - it is your birthday after all!"

"...Stay there..." Omar said, running back in - to say he looked perplexed was an understatement which his slightly tanned face drained of colour with shifting eyes and fidgeting hands, drumming their fingers against the couch.

"Who is that? Did you call him Floyd? Made a new friend? Just bring him in, I don't find it that bloody difficult to meet new people! Just hope we don't end up both looking at you when you say 'Floyd', haha!" I said in a cheerful demeanour trying to get Omar to stop looking so pale, but there was surely a reason behind it. "...What's going on, Omar. Tell me." I said, lowering my voice as seriousness began to take place.

"...I...I actually mistook the guy at the door for you. I know it sounds daft, but he looks and acts real similar to you man! If it's not you, then I don't know who it is! He had a few less spots than you, sorry to bring it up, a bit more of a beard than you going all over his chin, hair's quite a bit longer and even messier, and was a bit beefier than you, but other than that, he looked almost identical to you" He said, tapping his right foot against the floor in bewilderment, trying to make sense of it all.

"...He looks just like me?! How?! Is he some kind of doppelgänger?! You're making no sense Omar!" I said, grunting, trying to pull some sense out of him, but he just kept on going!

"...Yeah, he looks just like you! I even called him by your name, man!" He said, sounding absolutely panic stricken by now. "Covered in wounds and everything! Didn't seem to care about them though!" By now, though, enough was enough - time to give Omar a straight talking to!

"Omar, look - I'm right here, it's obviously not me out there, calm down. I'm Floyd, surely! And you even said he looked a bit different in a few ways - less spots, longer and bushier hair and beard, not quite so scrawny! You're surely not mistaking him for me! Just ignore him, I really don't see why someone would want to pull some kind of doppelgänger prank on me, but I assure you...eh...just ignore him and you'll be fine...but on second thoughts, I wouldn't mind seeing how this fake Floyd looks - colour me impressed if you got scared by it!." I said as I marched towards the closed door, wondering if this strange man was still there. I wasn't nearly as on edge as Omar was as his stammering right now was ridiculous! I heard something soft hit the floor outside the door as I opened it - a small pile of vomit! Ugh! And up from there, I saw the strange man start to hurtle himself down the flight of stairs - he was up to something!

"...Sounds like he's running away! Hey, come back here, I wanna see! And don't puke outside Omar's door again, will you?" I said as I gave chase, and although he was moving way faster than I could ever possibly move, of the glimpses I did see of him, Omar was absolutely right in his descriptions - this lookalike definitely looked the part, but as much as I wanted to know, catching him was simply out of the question given how rapidly he was leaping down the stairs. Just who was that strange man?

"...He legged it Omar." I said, looking up, with our confused expressions now matching each others. A brief look outside the dirty window showed him running towards the outskirts of the city, nearly as fast as some professional athletes! He really must have wanted to avoid me!

"See what I mean? Don't know how that creepy fuck knew who I was, since can't actually be you, since you're right here." He said as I walked fairly slowly up the flight of stairs to rejoin him. "It's probably just an elaborate prank, though I really don't know why someone would go out of their way to do that...eh, weird people - I know a lot of them, huh huh! I should clean this sick up..." He babbled on a bit before getting a mop - the pile of vomit made very little sense either, nor all the wounds that the look-a-like was also supposedly covered in.

"Well, as long as that creepy bastard doesn't show up again...I think we should just ignore him - he might not turn out to be problem at all for all we know." I said as Omar cleaned the puke up, almost throwing up himself at the smell and sight of it.

"This sick here is a problem!" He said, grumbling, wiping the mop hard against the floor, finishing it off. "Or maybe I should say it 'was' a problem, huh huh!" He said, leading me back into his room in, only for a flash of green to come from his right that latched onto him.

"Happy birthday Omar! Sorry, I was late, I got lost." It was indeed Grovyle and after they spent a few seconds hugging it out, he dropped onto the floor. "You really like my hugs, and it's too bad someone else doesn't!" He said, grinning at me.

"Oh trust me Grovyle, I think we'll eventually convert him to the huggy side, huh huh!"

"I'm more stubborn than any mule you've met guys, no chance! Aren't some other friends coming over?"

"Nah man, we're meeting them at the pubs in a couple of hours. Grovyle, you'll probably have to return home when that time comes, or you can stay here or whatever – they're not exactly going to let a pokemon go in. You could walk with us there if you feel like it dude." Omar said to him, and their now highly casual attitude with each other really made me wonder how much Grovyle was visiting Omar - good for him though, since Grovyle can really get in my face at times.

"I thought this would happen, but I'll come part of the way. But I would like to say-"

"Are you gonna go on a wee rant again? Floyd's been telling me all about them." Grovyle blushed slightly, knowing that we knew it was going to be another alcohol rant. "Without further ado then, let's dig into another then!" Omar said, making a showman-like announcement over it before going to the fridge.

"I wonder what Omar thinks of this slowing planet buisness and your visions?" Grovyle asked out of the blue, and it was not the sort of thing that I really wanted on my mind right now at all!

"Grovyle, I'm wanting to enjoy, and I repeat, enjoy Omar's birthday. I'm off work the day after as well due to a bank holiday. Look, if you are so curious to discuss that shit, I'll do it tomorrow as long as I'm not too hungover. Omar hasn't brought it up at all to me, and this vision stuff, I'd rather keep it between you, me and my dad for now." I said, stretching my legs, my head suddenly buzzing when I accidentally grabbed Omar's empty can instead of my almost empty one.

The signs were showing once more - dizziness, ringing ears, slight nausea...ugh, here we go again, but I could be at least a little more prepared this time, and I'm sure Omar wouldn't mind...

"Speaking of which..." I said and rested my head and legs on the couch, lying on my side as I put the can down as I awaited for the vision to appear. "Don't let Omar wo...worr..." I said as the light zoomed in again as I passed out rather peacefully.

This time, it was a little tricky to see in the darkness. This was obviously a night-time vision I was getting here, but the sight of a highly distressed and shocked Omar stumbling around outside, accidentally knocking himself into what appeared to be a small scaffold in a building site made it a vision I wanted to keep an eye on and remember. Omar kept on blabbering about someone dying nonsensically as he struggled to keep his balance while wandering around the site aimlessly. It didn't seem like a particularly dangerous site, thankfully, with most of the sharp tools put away judging by the boxes lying around, but the presence of a scrawny little young man changed that - or to be more precise, his hulking ursaring!

Not even the ursaring was making more than the faintest of sounds as they both followed Omar very carefully, obviously up to no good, and I was sure that the little guy was using his well trained ursaring as hired muscle to do something nasty to Omar like the pathetic fucking coward that he was. I had little respect for assaults and other lawbreakers, but those who do it while hiding behind pokemon really deserved a good smack in the face from their captured bodyguards! I'd be more forgiving if they fought alongside them for tough issues, but that doesn't get reported of often at all. Nevertheless, I could assume that it's to happen in the future - he always blabs on about little escapades in his life, which were all at least mildly entertaining.

The vision soon ended, and as expected, Omar was shaking me slightly, thinking I fell asleep and looking far more amused than worried with a cheeky bright grin on his face.

"Falling asleep again? It's those night shift hours, I'm tellin' ya!" I groaned slightly, feeling more refreshed, thinking over what I just saw, wondering how exactly was I going to tell Omar this. If I told him the whole story, he'd assume I was full of shit and delusional, but if I just told him this...

"Look, whatever you do, don't go into any building sites or construction zones - ever, ok?" I said, almost choking on the words of how strange and sudden it sounded to me, let alone him, and as expected, he looked completely confused.

"...Ok then, here's your drink mister." He said, thrusting it into my hand rather quickly, causing an aura of awkwardness that filled the entire room. Thankfully, as we finished off our third cans and were due to leave soon, things got far more cheerful, passing compliments to each other at the drop of the hat. He seemed to be more grateful for the pokeball by the second, but that could be chalked up to the beer and cider softening us up.

"We should head soon, I just got a text from Douglas that he's already there with Scott." He said, looking at his new phone. "I got this from my mum and dad. They seem to have suddenly become, like, way nicer ever since I left home - either that or it's because I never got in the way of using phones, not unlike you actually, huh huh!"

"Ah, it'd probably never happen anyway..." I said, thinking out loud about the vision as I got lost in thought for a moment.

"Eh?" Omar said, looking up from the phone before putting it back in his pocket.

"Ah, nothing, want to head now?" I said, finally finishing off my can, with Omar polishing off his fourth, and he already looked rather tipsy.

"Sure, man." He said, and approached Dragonite, who seemed to be half asleep.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but they won't let you in the pub, you'll have to stay here." He said, with a far more soothing voice than usual loud, yet paradoxically laid back voice. "You still seem very tired, I'll be back in about six hours, will you be ok?" She whined slightly, obviously sad to see Omar leave even for a few hours, but nodded her head soon afterwards.

"Don't worry, It'll be fine. Don't trash the place, huh huh!" He said, and joined Grovyle and I at the door, rubbing his hair.

"I know what you're thinking." Omar said as we walked down the stairs together, hoping no one would protest too much about a grovyle also walking with us. "Like I said, she has become very child like ever since she evolved, so, well, that's why I treat her like one. I hope she grows out of it soon, it's reminding me of when I had to look after my wee cousin from time to time."

"She at least seems very attached to you." Grovyle said, jumping on my shoulders and sitting on them, which I grew to put up with since he was actually pretty light. "But I can imagine why you'd be slightly irritated."

"Eh, she'll grow out of it eventually. I'm just more worried if she accidentally assumes that someone is attacking me and tried to outright kill them for it - I wouldn't put it past her." Omar said as we started heading towards the outskirts of the city, where the buildings shrank and spread out to give way to the middle class homes, occupied by BMW cars that lined the streets as men and women in formal wear went home to greet their families after long days at offices.

The Braidburn Inn was just ahead and Grovyle soon saw that it was his time to leave. It sure looked a lot richer than the other pubs, but it was his twenty first, so I guess he wanted the extra class to this day. I grumbled slightly at this - it was already a damn long walk, and my wallet would surely end up being pretty damn empty by the end of the night.

"I'll return home now." He said, pausing for a moment before smiling thoughtfully at us. "Have fun!" He said and dashed off very quickly, having no fear of stray pokemon catchers due to his rather extreme agility as he ran past some shocked looking pedestrians, while never getting in their way and before I knew it, he was out of sight.

"He'll be caught one of these days man. I'd say that, but he's far from an ordinary grovyle..." Omar said, who seemed pretty concerned for his safety, which faded away as quickly as it came as he lead me into the inn.

It wasn't very busy at all, but that was bound to change as the slightly dimmed lights gave a cosy, welcoming feel as it bounced off the well carved wood, showing old celtic patterns that dated to beyond two thousand years ago, all the way back to the iron age. The tables and chairs had obviously received some rather thorough cleaning as the wood grain was highly visible, and even gave a very rustic feel. The only younger people here took up half a table, and I identified all but one - they must have been Omar's friends. The rest of the people were fairly old men, sitting around with pints of Guinness and a copy or two of The Daily Mail, who would probably not want a bunch of people under twenty-five running the pub tonight, but fuck 'em - they don't own the place, but that might change if we end up getting too noisy, and Douglas could probably take the silver medal for the loudest voice in the UK, losing only to Brian Blessed.

"The birthday man is here!" Douglas said, smiling broadly as he pulled a chair over from the other table for him. "I'll get you a drink." He continued and went to order them from the bar. The noise began to slowly rise and amplify in accordance to more of his friends coming in - ten, fifteen, twenty - he had clearly done a lot of invitation work!

As I started on my second pint, the environment started to become ever so slightly hazy, as it seems like the cider from earlier was still well within my body. Omar was getting swabbed with old friends, including a couple who looked like they came all the way from Dubai, which made me wonder why they weren't staying with him. The drinks seemed to start going faster as this pint was vanishing quickly as wooziness started to set in slightly as sweat started to leak from my forehead and arms.

"Hey, I recognize you - aren't you the bassist of The Kyogre Is Dead?" The guy said next to me. I recognized him slightly, but only by appearance as he looked at me, tapping me on the shoulder as I looked round to face him.

"Aye, Omar's band." I said, as I started to introduce myself, only to be rudely cut off.

"Aren't you that Dialga priest guy's son?" He had obviously drank quite a lot before coming out here, and I didn't think he'd be able to take more than two more before doing some really stupid stuff as his head was moving slowly and randomly, being unable to keep it very still, but still keeping eye contact.

"Yes, and I'm guessing you're one of-" This time, however, he cut me off even quicker, and he looked ready to delve into some heated, alcohol fuelled discussion.

"Man, your dad's a dick. No offence man, but he is." He said, taking almost a quarter of his beer in one go. "Fuckin' wants Arceists, atheists, and pretty much anyone who doesn't follow that shit beaten up, man, you should really try to talk some sense into him man - you should hear some of the shit he says."

"I'm trying to enjoy myself here! Fuck! Go talk to someone else, you're clearly full of shit taking him way out of context." I said, trying to shoo him away.

"Jeez man...I'm just saying - those beliefs of his - they, like, make people violent. Say, how come you're part of a band that talks shit of your beliefs, if you are a Dialgan that is." One of the questions I really hated being asked, as it put me in a spot where I questioned myself if I was that devout. I even heard myself growl slightly at this!

"...Those songs don't speak for me at all. I merely put up with them. Besides, Douglas's growls are almost incomprehensible in that song, not like you can hear him disrespect my lord." Of all the people that came over to talk to me...he yammered on for a minute making hand gestures as strange as he was drunk before I had finally had enough.

"I'm..." I said and stood up quickly. "I'm going to the toilet." I said and walked off. It wasn't just an excuse to get away from him, as my bladder was almost bursting, and the relief was so much better than putting up with him. I didn't even bother trying to stick up for my dad and my religion, as it seemed like there was no way he would listen. As I washed my hands, my breath deepened as I started muttering nonsense under my breath, a sign that I was starting to get drunk - I should probably only have one more for now. Taking a brief breath of fresh air by the window, I saw something a little disturbing - the exact same scaffolding from my vision; it was unmistakable! I was taking no chances here as I took a couple of steps back, accidentally bumping into one of the older people who was about to use one of the urinals. Apologizing, I left the bathroom with haste.

"Omar, Omar, where are you..." I muttered again, looking all around for him in the pub. Grabbing my glass, I finished the pint and asked Douglas, who looked like he was attracting a lot of people with his fairly booming voice.

"Douglas." I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Where's Omar, I need to speak to him quickly."

"Gimme a sec Floyd." He said, and while he rounded off his conversation with Martin quickly, as he said, it felt like five whole minutes as I constantly pushed myself on my tiptoes out of worry and stress.

"You were saying buddy? Where's Omar? Eh, he just went outside - can't blame him, it's stuffy as fuck in here, I might join him in a bit." Thoughts of the vision were fully occupying my extremely stressed mind – what if it was going to happen tonight!? The pieces were starting to fall into place here - all that was missing what that scrawny guy, but I just hoped that Douglas's reasoning was correct! It still might not come true!

"You look pretty pale, I don't think you should have anymore, can't have you throwin' up here! Anyway, as I was saying to the guys, Omar seemed to be pretty occupied with his new phone here - bit of a shit move considering some of his friends and family came from fucking Dubai!" He continued bantering, but I was already outside of the pub, looking around frantically, sweating badly in the summer night - it was already dark, and looking at the time, it was already eleven in the evening. Another piece to the puzzle - Omar was not just outside the pub, but Scott was, who was apparently even less partial to hot and stuffy conditions than I was!

"You seen Omar?"

"Yeah, he went round the corner - he looked really upset for some reason, told me he needed his space. He'll probably be back in a few minutes." That was all I needed to know as I was now fully confident he walked right into the construction sight. My head turned faster than my vision could keep up with as I ran round in a desperate, tireless run. Away from the pub, things got far quieter as I swore I could actually hear my heart thumping away inside my body as did my brain, giving me headaches, not that a mere headache was important right now. I peered through the bushes, and to my horror, it was all true - the scrawny guy, the ursaring, and in the darkness, a very upset looking Omar.

But what to do? Should I yell for attention? I had gone a fair distance away from the pub by now, and was almost outside of Edinburgh as a whole - perhaps no one would come, or worse, he'd set that ursaring to maul me as well! But letting Omar get attacked by a vicious pokemon and a scumbag of a trainer wasn't an option either. Breathing rapidly through my nose, I crept through the bush wall and inside the building site. The air was extremely still by this point, as if the weather itself was imitating how tense this all felt. It soon changed to blow gently onto me, causing my hair to tickle my face. The weather was clearly on my side, since I didn't think ursaring could smell me as I wasn't upwind from it. Listening in closely, this didn't seem like anything personal – he was just a lowly, aggressive thief with an ursaring to do the dirty work. Listening in very closely, I heard him mention his despicable plans to his pokemon, and indeed, it was a pokemon-assisted mugging.

In mere moments, Omar would surely be mauled, wounded, and his possessions stripped from him. Was there anything I could do? Was the future I saw set in stone? Surely not! Perhaps the vision didn't account for me and my incoming intervention - I was going to decide what happened! In true Dialgan fashion, all forces, seen and unseen, write time's story, and this was the part where I'd step in.

They both crept closer to Omar, who was sitting on a crate alone in the darkness, looking at his phone - it was hard to tell from here, but he looked upset with disbelief, constantly rubbing his forehead and making noises which resembled a choked cry. Not like the other two cared though – to them, he still seemed like fair game. I couldn't go against an ursaring, and by the looks of things, I'd have about five seconds after attacking the mugger before that pokemon sends me to Edinburgh Regional Medical Centre. If that was the case, then I'd have that long to figure out how to use a pokeball to return a pokemon.

Looking around for anything reasonably heavy to knock the bastard out, the fortunes favoured me once more - a crate of tools, left wide open! Not being too picky, I made a grab for a crowbar, which felt quite comfortable in my hands, not too light for him to be able to strike back, but not too heavy that it would hinder me and possibly kill him. Even if Dialga never forbid that, risking outright killing the man would be barbaric! Holding my breath, and holding my eyes right on the back of his head, he gave the signal for the ursaring to get Omar. The ursaring got closer as I got closer, both aiming to apprehend our targets, each footstep of mine being carefully and spontaneously planned for minimal sound, yet maximum speed. I wasn't going to release my breath just yet - not before I struck that bastard.

Holding the the crowbar firmly in both hands, I could see that I was going to get there first, as I readied myself for a good hard whack on the blunt side - I had to make this count. Concentrating with mind and body, I swung hard and true before he even realised I was there, fighting off the urge to let out an angry war cry. With a fairly loud clunk, he fell quickly, totally out cold - couldn't have planned that any better! But that was the safe part, and the dangerous part was right on my doorstep in the form of a livid looking pokemon staring furiously at me. I didn't expect this to go unnoticed, and the ursaring immediately abandoned his command and roared with unrestrained hatred. As I stood over his unconscious trainer, the anger within the ursaring clearly seared to incredible heights - he looked outright ready to kill! Perhaps I should have just let him deal with Omar; at least we would both live!

There'd be no one around to could prevent me from tearing my limbs off, and thus, part two of my plan went into action now. As it charged in blind fury at me, I made a grab for the pokeball that he dropped and after a heart-stopping fumble, I got a good grip of it. But the ursaring was already mere feet away and raised its right paw to smash my brains out! Leaping backwards, not caring what sharp rocks or tools could be behind me, it missed by a nose-hair, tearing my t-shirt as it let out another deafening roar. Luckily for me, it was my cue to point the ball at it, and press the only button on it. My aggressor very quickly disappeared inside it in a flash of red, and aside from a possible assault charge, I was safe.

"...Oh dear, oh...shite..." I said, breathing so fast and heavily as I came to the realisation I had my first brush with death in my entire life, and I felt totally cleared of any intoxicated feelings as I swore I could smell cider leaking from my sweat pores. The breathing was so deep and rapid that it was almost hurting me, as I truly tried to come to grips of what just happened. Wiping my hair out of my face, I slowly stepped past the unconscious trainer to meet Omar.

"I...uh, I just saved your ass from, eh, that ursaring and its trainer." I said, but Omar didn't seem to be paying that much attention to what I had to say, at least initially. After almost an entire minute passed he eventually did look up and me, and I almost wished he didn't. It's was the face of despair that could only be caused by something as severe as someone's death.

"Jake's Dead. Bus crash." He said, lips trembling as he handed me his phone, and sure enough, littered on Jake's Facebook profile, a slew of RIP messages. Omar didn't look like he could say anymore than those four words at all, as he sighed miserably, holding his head up with one hand. Myself not really knowing Jake, I didn't feel absolutely crushed as Omar did; instead, I felt total helplessness - what could I even say to comfort him outside of meaningless words that would amount to nothing? No comical gestures or, variants of 'it's going to be ok' would even remotely help, and to see the perpetually joyful Omar become this broken was just heart-rending.

"...I'll take you home Omar." I said, as the sombreness went into full swing as I eventually convinced Omar to get up - he could at least grieve more peacefully, not to mention safely, at home. As expected, Omar didn't say anything whatsoever as I lead him home, still holding the crowbar in my right hand, completely forgetting to let go of it. I was also starting to forget my brush with death almost an hour back as well - I was fortunate to live, but Jake was not. I began missing the old Omar already and it would truly be a tragedy if Omar remained this depressed for weeks on end. But I'd be there for him, anything to help him deal with this loss.

We arrived back at Omar's place after he took almost a minute to get the key from his pocket, putting it in the lock and turning it as his motions constantly switched between a feeling of intense heaviness as he struggled to hold the key steady to angry attempts to stab the lock. He collapsed down on one of the couches while I took the other. It was here where he finally spoke up again.

"Thanks..." He said, his face planted on the arm of the couch, dropping his phone on the floor. He barely moved whatsoever for a few more minutes, before muttering to himself and pushing himself up to sit upright.

"This is...this is a black, black day in my life. It's going to stay that way until I die - the worst twenty-first birthday anyone could get." He looked up at me after saying this, his hair far scruffier than normal with bagging eyes to boot.

"Still, it would have been even worse without you. Thanks for being with me. If you don't mind, please sleep there, I might need help in the morning." I nodded and got each other a glass of water, something Omar barely even touched, but was more than happy as he drank it so fast that half of it spilled on himself and the couch. He accidentally fumbled the glass and it hit the table loudly enough to wake Dragonite up.

Dragonite seemed to be able to detect his deep sadness and made a slow gesture, inviting Omar over for a comforting hug. She almost looked as sad as Omar on the sheer sight of seeing Omar's misery - maybe he needed some physical comforting as well as Omar obliged and was gently embraced by her.

"Thanks, Dragonite." He said and turned to face me again. "I guess I still have you two here with me - my only hope now that this is all part of some cruel dream." Dragonite whined slightly as she nuzzled Omar far more gently than she did to me, but not even that would get Omar to smile. I guess all I could hope for now is for Omar to not feel quite as miserable tomorrow, but I knew it still wouldn't be a happy day at all.

"...Fuck that bus driver...goodnight Floyd." He rested his head against Dragonite's chest and didn't say anymore, but even as I got comfortable, I could tell that Omar was going to get minimal sleep in his state. Sleep came for me eventually, but it took at least two hours at a rough guess, and the last I saw of Omar, his eyes seemed to be taped open by unseen forces.

Morning came, and I could be at least grateful for something - this day was surely not going to be as horrible as yesterday was. Omar and Dragonite were still asleep, snuggling with each other, which would have been highly adorable if it weren't for yesterday's events. As I promised Omar, I would stay with him for today if need be, but waiting for him to wake wasn't what I wanted. Gritting my teeth as I drank more water, I waited an hour or two before he started to stir.

"...It all actually happened. He's never coming back." He said, still stuck in Dragonite's hug. It was at times like this that I truly came to appreciate - I have lived for what is coming up to twenty years in my life, and I have not had a single person I was close to die - I really had no idea what possible extent of grief that Omar could be feeling right now, the helplessness returning to me - what to say, or what to do?

"Floyd, I think I just need this day to myself to think things over, sorry. Got some things to change plans to, stuff like calling off work for attending his funeral and stuff. I'm not cancelling the gig though, you can be sure I'll find a way to attend both. Though I want to ask something before you leave: How did you know where I went? You weren't following me at all - you'd almost have me believe you really do get visions like Grovyle one time told me."

"...He's right. They come at random times, I have no control over them. The fortunes aligned with me that I saw where you went - we can at least be grateful for that."

"Too bad you didn't get a vision about the bus crash - could have warned Jake." He shook his head rather violently. "Sorry Floyd, it wasn't fair of me to say that. I'll phone you tomorrow...man." He said, forcing his usual mannerism to try and make him seem more warm, and I returned a slight smile to him. I passed him Dragonite's pokeball - he may need it if Dragonite doesn't let go, which has happened on more than one occasion.

"Maybe for Jake's sake, I hope Palkianism turns out to be real - maybe he won't be completely dead then...if only I could believe that." This made things a little more awkward than I really hoped, and it really was time I left.

"I'll hopefully see you soon." I said, but as I was about to leave, he called back for me one last time.

"And the way you just about risked your life against that ursaring and had it in you to completely floor that bastard earlier...I think it's time I gave you some of your Dialgan honesty. Floyd, I'd be hard pressed to find a better friend than you." He said, and gave a fairly weak, but a genuine and cosy smile. "That crowbar you left on the couch - you should keep it - a trophy to when you saved yesterday from becoming even worse for me." I picked it up and had a good look at it - it was just a lump of metal, really, but now it had significance to me. Besides, I'm sure the builders can find another one, and what's more, it allowed me to follow Dialga's law and punish attempted assault and theft. I became rather attached to it already as I struggled to fit it in my bag, hoping that it'd be safe. I waved goodbye to Omar as I left to return home to where Grovyle was. I had quite a story to tell...

"...If you were any other guy, I'd call you on lying, but since you're Floyd and following that Dialga religion of truth or whatever, I'll believe every word. You did say that you're dad also gets these visions, right?" I nodded at Grovyle, not getting the chance to speak as he leapt up and hung onto my shoulders.

"We're going to see your dad now then. It's Saturday, it's his day off if I remember correctly." He stared right into my eyes, and I wasn't going to argue with this at all. We didn't speak much as we drove over to my dad's place, both thinking about the visions. For the first time, I got a forewarning of trouble and used it to avert Omar from being mugged - I still had no explanation for all this, but as Grovyle pointed out, perhaps we could get closer to it by talking to my dad.

"Floyd, I'd talk about how proud of you I am for saving your friend like that, or why you didn't tell me about your own pokemon friend who also talks much like Dusknoir does, but this grovyle here is right - it's about time we shared notes on the visions. Have you been taking notes on your visions, where they occurred and what you saw in them?" Kirk said to me, and I stalled for a moment before my dad shook his head.

"You havn't...fine, I'll give you a copy of my notes in a moment." He said and walked quickly over to his PC. Meanwhile, Dusknoir came in from upstairs, trying not to scrape the wall or the banister as he floated down.

"Greetings Floyd, and is this an acquaintance of yours?" Grovyle looked up at him for a few seconds, scratched his chin, and talked.

"I've heard of you, the only other pokemon I know who got into human like ways. I also heard you're quite the Dialgan, kind of like Floyd and Kirk."

"I would be most fascinated to converse with you. Please, if Kirk would excuse us, I would like to get to know you, perhaps share our experiences in seeking the enlightened ways of the humans instead of the primitive ways of your average pokemon." Grovyle smiled and chuckled slightly.

"You speak very...proper. Well, if Kirk doesn't mind...come to think of it, as much as I heard of him, I've never spoken to him either."

"Perhaps there'll be time later today." Kirk came through at that moment to speak to the three of us.

"Alright, if you don't mind, I'd like a word with Floyd in the living room – alone, that is. Don't worry Dusknoir, I'll give you the gist of it after, so please don't panic over withholding information from each other, but it's a bit of a...well, I'll explain later. Go make yourselves comfortable in the kitchen or something." He said and lead me into the living room where he passed me his notes, which must have been at least a hundred pages of A4!

"Well then, I suggest you read these well." He said, and started pacing around, looking far more worried than the level headed man he usually is - it couldn't be good. "Floyd...almost all the free time I get is spent trying to research what I like to call 'Dimensional Screams', named because I have seen even beyond what the physical eye can see, at many times, and even in other dimensions. Oh, and that scream-like noise I hear whenever I get one." Kirk seemed to be getting more stressed by the second, as more bean spilling came around.

"Remember that book that I confiscated from you when you were younger? Through The Dimensions, I think it was called since it overtly promoted a blasphemous cult? Let's just say there is actually some historical accuracy in that." I choked hard upon hearing this - this was most unlike my old man!

"That other plane of existence, where the pokemon originally came from according to that book and the Giratina worshippers - they were right. I know that you probably think is a cruel joke of mine, but you can trust me to tell you the full truth here Floyd - it exists, and no amount of denial will change that." This was the first time I had ever, in all my life, hear my dad giving credence to any other faith except his own. It even seemed to break him to even admit that as he shivered upon saying those words.

"...I read the story anyway when I got my own flat. Sorry." I said, really having no idea how to respond to what my dad was saying.

"Pokemon that have became more intelligent there and are currently at the birth of their own civilization - it's all true. Dialga however never said there wasn't another dimension like that, just letting you know that my devotion hasn't wavered at all, and yours shouldn't either, got it?" I nodded quickly, understanding how the existence of some other world really didn't concern us, hence Dialga had no reason to mention it.

"The dimensional screams, they're revealed to me sights that are almost impossible for humans like us to even comprehend. They're all in the notes there - something I'd like to mention about people with this sudden, inexplicable ability. I've managed through internet surfing to find a total of seven people who probably have this ability, including us, and I suspect that there are many more. They all seem to also be devout Dialgans, and have a pokemon they are very attached to..." Kirk started sweating, in spite of the rather cool breeze flowing through the window, and I wasn't sure if I even wanted to hear it, but came it did.

"What I said on the news...I simply wasn't strong enough to admit it, for I had a vision before then, a few days ago that...I...AARRGGHHH!" He suddenly screamed, knocking over the lamp next to him.

"The vision of what is probably temporal tower collapsing - that can't be near the start of creation, Ivan Nazar surely would have mentioned it if it was! It's yet to happen! Oh, no, NO! And just under a week ago - a vision of Edinburgh, desolate, with many buildings half collapsed, even some falling debris suspended in the air, the city rife with lawlessness at best and outright insanity at worst! Temporal Tower is falling! The end is near! Desolation is coming! And there's nothing anyone can do about it!"


	5. The Longest Day

Pokemon: The Unknown Continuum: Scenes From A Memory

Chapter 5: The Longest Day

My father stood there, breathing heavily and occasionally shuddering at his sudden outburst. Here he was, a man who had become the doom-sayer that he despised. Worse still, these words of impending armageddon rung true in my ears and mind as I thought back to the time of seeing a shattered form of my lord and master, and how I pre-emptively got a vision of Martin Mendez's heart attack. Adding to that, the very gradual slowing of the days, something that could be chalked up to some distortion in time itself, supported his newly founded apocalyptic beliefs. What a cruel and unusual fate we may have in store for us all, and yet I found it all impossible to believe.

"You don't seem too shocked Floyd, is this because you've realised that in spite of all of mankind's glorious advancements, it is useless against such a universal force, or is it just the denial step in the stages of grief?" I'd say something had gotten into my father, but that'd be too obvious by now.

"It's inductive reasoning to be sure, but look here." Kirk said as he passed me a few of his notes. "All these visions I had, ranging from the gold medal winner of the Olympic sprint event a few days ago winning with a time of exactly 9.763 to the untimely and horrible death of Stephen King via car crash three weeks ago today, all came exactly true. How we got these visions, this power, I am unsure if I will ever know. I have kept it to myself aside from you and Dusknoir as of now, but perhaps would be the time to share this with the world. However, how can this be done without people assuming I am insane or faking it?"

"I...eh...I really hate to ask this, but..." I asked as I gripped my hair tightly in both hands and pulled hard to the point where the force of it nosed just past the pain threshold. "If you truly believe that the end times are coming, how come you're suddenly a lot calmer?"

"Oh I'm not remotely calm at all Floyd, you saw what I did to that lamp earlier. It is very hard to restrain myself from lashing out again out of incredible stress, but I guess another reason is the futility of it. I cannot change a thing about what I would guess is time grinding to a halt, and it's out of anyone's power except Dialga himself." He gazed over to The Righteous Tome on a small table and picked it up, looking at it while tilting his head with a trembling jaw.

"Dialga never proclaimed that he was a perfect entity, but, well..." He stalled for a moment, clutching it so tightly it looked like his fingers would tear through the thick book cover. "No, he would never mean for this to happen, but what sort of transgression would cause Dialga to ever screw things up like this? Arceus? Hah, I bet that cruel, spiteful bastard probably sees this as an amusing experiment. Rambling aside, Floyd, I urge you to not abandon the righteous path as set out here in The Righteous Tome." He said, waving the heavy book at me as he looked at me intensely.

"Father, please, it won't happen, it won't! I...I got too much to live for to...hah..." I sat down on the couch, trying to prevent an outburst of denial that was starting to sear up as I pulled my hair even harder. I had far too many plans and dreams to at least attempt to fulfil – a nationwide tour with The Kyogre Is Dead, composing the soundtrack for anything I wanted, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro among a few other things. Oh how I wanted to live to see myself reach the eighties, now it seemed like I wouldn't reach twenty-five unless the death of the world comes a lot slower than I would imagine.

"Floyd, I have decided to try my best to prove my powers and to then warn people of the coming cataclysm. Even though it won't change our doom, the people deserve to at least know how and why. I have already developed my power to get dimensional screams as I please, and I am currently working on developing them further so I can manually select where and when I have them with the help of Dusknoir. As for you...just try to have a good time while you still can, but never, ever compromise your steadfast will in keeping to Dialga's righteous path he has given us. Even if he has lost his way now, he was still the paragon of justice when he had The Righteous Tome written and there is still no reason to ever deviate. We will be Dialgans to the end Floyd!"

"Absolutely..." I said, feeling myself growing more pale by the moment, suddenly grabbing and wolfing down the slightly soft chocolate bar I had in my pocket. I was beginning to feel physically ill by this point as the information slowly sunk into different parts of my brain, filtering through to the rest of my body, the chocolate only partially staving off the ill feelings. "I guess we should tell the other two then."

"Indeed, but how to tell them. I can just say it to Dusknoir flat out and he'd believe me – we are both Dialgans, he knew I wouldn't lie or even joke about anything like this, but this Grovyle? I think I'll leave that that up to you, you know him best. Care to send them through?" I nodded and got them, trying and failing horribly to hide my face of misery.

"Floyd? You can tell me what happened, don't worry." Grovyle said, Dusknoir showing similar concerns. "Look like you heard news that your father's about to die! Surely it's not that bad."

"...Worse...Follow me." I said sadly, feeling heavier by the moment as the news of the end of all things sunk deeper and deeper into both body and mind. Upon entering the living room, Kirk was at his computer, keying away furiously at his computer before turning around sadly before sharing his findings with the other two, their facial expressions (as much of a face Dusknoir had at least) being wildly different from one another.

"...You're full of shit...Kirk, why would you feed Andrew this doomsday crap! You can't seriously tell me you believe it yourself! You're deluded you old fart!" Grovyle said, almost angrily at Kirk who just sat with a heavy glum expression on his face. Dusknoir looked too distressed to lash out against Grovyle for daring to talk crap about the one to bring meaning into his life and just hovered there, shivering.

"N, no! Not when I had just found meaning in my life! It's all going to be over soon?!" I had seen Dusknoir quite often and he never really showed much emotion outside of curiosity, but this? This was something completely new for him, his expressions dripped fear of every single part of his rather round body. "Please, Kirk, we can't die like this! There's so much I want to do now that I've been enlightened!"

"Grovyle, I sincerely hope with all my heart that I'm a clinically insane lunatic. I've labelled all other doom-sayers the very same thing, and I could be one too for all we know. These dreams when I pass out, these dimensional screams though...many of the ones I've had of the future ones came to pass and the ones have didn't are still in the future." Kirk was sounding more depressed by the second, sitting less upright and breaking eye contact as he turned to gaze at the side of his seat. "I'd still denial if it weren't for one important detail – the very gradual slowing of the days, the planet's rotation. Makes more sense than I'd ever want to admit, but I'm still a Dialgan priest, I cannot shy away from the truth."

"Surely it can be changed!" Dusknoir said, his very low and commanding voice suddenly losing a lot of his signature depth to it. "Are you sure it's set in stone?"

"I cannot guarantee that, but even if it wasn't, what can mere mortals such as ourselves do against the forces of the fabric of existence itself?" Kirk said and sighed sadly. "There is nothing we can do. I guess all we can do is wait for the world to die a slow agonizing death. Just go out and have some fun and fulfil your bucket list or whatever. I already filled mine, though it was a very modest one."

"I'm not giving up Kirk! Neither can you! Say, what if there was a way to view what happened with the dimensional scream?" Dusknoir asked, sounding no less desperate than before.

"The visions seem mostly random, I can't exactly get visions on exactly what I want to see when I want to see them." My father said, still sounded as dejected as ever.

"Surely we can practice or something?!" Dusknoir said, his voice becoming rather high pitched again, at least by his standards.

"And then what?! We cross dimensions to ask the gods to fix things?!" Kirk said, sounding frustrated.

"Well...well, I'm not going to roll over and die! I'll do whatever I can! Though I'll need your help, Kirk. Please reconsider and try. I'm begging you."

"Wait and see Dusknoir...So, Floyd, what are you going to do now?"

"Sadly drink a bottle of rum straight, I dunno." I said, and predictably, Grovyle gave me a stern look. "I was joking. At least I think I was. I dunno, maybe you can me can make a bit more money to fund a trip to Tanzania to climb Mount Kilimanjaro while we still can, eh?"

"I guess we could do that. By the sounds of it, I might want to try it myself. Surely they'd let me climb with a group, right?"

"I dunno, but by the time we get there, I don't think anyone will care. I just hope the weather differences won't boil your cold blood and stuff. Anyway, we're heading out dad." I said, waving to my dad as I left the room.

"Floyd, just a second." He said, following me to the door. "I'll call you if anything props up. Just remember to not go too crazy, right?" Truth be told, I did have thoughts of seeking out a party tonight.

"I'll make sure he doesn't, and the end times are not happening. Just wanting to reiterate that." Grovyle said as I rolled my eyes, and then decided to crouch down and stroke his belly. He smiled for a split second before asking me to stop firmly.

"You're in denial, Grovyle, you loved that! See, I can be mildly condescending too!" I said, trying to chuckle but failing due to the whole end of the world premonitions ruining my happiness. We left my father's flat to walk towards my own. The roads seemed a little bit busier than normal, and there seemed to be a feel of hurry in the air as several people walked around me from behind which felt strange given my natural fast walking pace. On the way there we saw a small crowd hanging around an old fashioned sundial, loud shouting lying over the top of the sea of murmurs.

"The sundial is two hours behind!" A woman shrieked in the middle of the crowd. Indeed, the sun wasn't as high as you'd expect it to be for two in the afternoon. Grovyle climbed up a tree to confirm it as he looked down on the sundial.

"...I think your dad is right after all." He said sadly, leaping down to my side. "If it really is the end, then we might as well try to get that trip done ASAP, just going us two if we can. If we die on the mountain, well, we'd die doing something we loved."

"I'm guessing we'd need about three hundred more pounds to afford the flights. Let's do this quickly before, you know, they can't do flights any more." I laughed nervously as we got into my car and drove towards the Pentland Hills, south east of Edinburgh. I was sweating badly out of stress, my hair starting to become damp as I gripped the steering wheel far tighter than necessary. Grovyle had to point out that I was speeding several times on the journey there and my head was locked in position, looking dead straight and being generally neglectful at junctions, causing a couple of drivers to honk their horns at me as I unintentionally cut them off.

"Floyd, be more careful, you're going to wreck someone's car at this rate." Grovyle snapped at me loudly. I mumbled something about driving and stress as I pressed onwards, reaching the city bypass. The roads were thick with tension, as if everyone else knew something was very wrong but couldn't quite predict what the results would be. Many people were driving just as sloppily as I was as I had to swerve to the other lane when someone drifted lazily right in front of me.

"I wonder if going on a plane is such a good idea after all..." Grovyle muttered as we made out turn into a much quieter road towards Pentland Hills Regional Park. It wasn't the prettiest of places that looked like a tame version of the Scottish Highlands, but it was the main go-to place for pokemon trainers given the rules and regulations were pretty relaxed when compared to other places, not to mention the wide sweeping hills hosted a variety of wild pokemon which were regarded as being fairly docile most of the time making it quite safe. Of course, the wide open spaces allowed trainers to go wild with their battling knowing that there's no buildings around that could be damaged. Omar spent quite a lot of his free time here with Dragonite, only occasionally going to more exotic places such as the highlands up north. Shades of green and brown swept the hilly landscape as I looked out for a trainer that I could convince to take a bet that would net me some cash. Grovyle kept a good distance to me to make sure that any trainer didn't see that we were together. After all, a wild pokemon is surely much easier to beat than a trained one, right? Heh, that's what they thought.

I eventually saw a young woman who looked about three years younger than me on her own, giving orders to a zangoose and a scizor. She seemed to be quite strict, though her pokemon seemed to be quite happy to follow her commands. I approached her as soon as I saw Grovyle in position and acting like an uncivilized wild creature to fool the trainer.

"Hello there!" I called as I approached her with a slow jog, putting on a big friendly smile on my face, which was a lot harder to do than normal given the constant nagging thoughts of impending doom. "Those are some tough looking pokemon you have there."

"Why yes they are!" She said proudly, turning to look at me with a confident smile. "You a trainer too? Are you wanting to..." She suddenly trailed off and lowered her eyebrows and inspected me closely. "Do I know you? You seem familiar."

"Well, I don't know you, that's for sure. Anyway, I did notice a grovyle nearby. They don't usually live around here, but this one seems extra tough! I saw it stalking around near those small patch of trees. If you can find it and only use one pokemon to defeat it, I'll give you, I dunno, £30 sound good? If you fail, you give me £30, sound like a deal?" I said, her eyes widening suddenly.

"It's you! You were the one that conned me out of £20 and embarrassed scyther! Well, he's a scizor now...anyway, you know that grovyle! I saw you leave with him! He's not wild, he's very well trained!" She said angrily, her pokemon looking just as furious.

"I never lied at all! Dialga would hate me if I did! Yes, I do know Grovyle, but I am not his trainer! I'm better than that – I'm a very close friend of his. I have no trainer licence because I do not train him! He's far too badass for that, as you experienced previously. Well, it seems like this is going nowhere, I'll just have to find someone else then. See ya!" I said as she gave me a very nasty smile.

"You're not going anywhere without giving me my money back you liar!" She shouted as I turned to face her again.

"You're threatening me?! Fuck off! I'm not giving you it back, I earned it fair and square from a bet that you lost! Deal with it!" I said, flipping my middle finger at her and scowling.

"I think you misunderstood me, so I'll make this even simpler from you. Either you give me my money back, oh and your entire wallet while we're at it, or I'll have my pokemon attack you, then take your wallet!" She said, her zangoose and scizor turning to face me from about thirty meters away, cancelling their mock fighting. She was also taking two more pokeballs out of her bag, and she didn't seem to be using them to return zangoose and scizor.

"...You're fucking pathetic. You can't even mug me yourself?! Hiding behind pokemon while having them hospitalize me or something, all because your angry over losing twenty pounds in a bet?! You are the single most petty little bitch I ever encountered! A blight on this species that we share!" I said spitefully as she let a nidorino and a pidgeot out of their pokeballs.

"Yell all you want, you can't fight them and you'd probably be able to run for about five seconds before you're caught. Now, I'll give you thirty seconds to make up your mind. I'd have given you a minute, but the insults have made me feel rather sour." She said, her pokemon poised to charge at me at a moments notice. Grovyle ran up to me from behind, and leaping onto my shoulders.

"Floyd, just give her your wallet. I can't fight all four of them for you!" He said desperately, pleading me to just give in to her demands.

"Grovyle, you don't understand – it's not about the money, it's about the principle! ...Just try to cover me as best you can, these legs can still run."

"Floyd, I will take your own wallet and give it to her by force if necessary! I can't see you beaten up or in hospital. You could be killed!" Grovyle said, nagging like he had a bad habit of doing so.

"Wait, that grovyle talks?! Well, I might have to add him to my collection then! I'll take your wallet and him if that's the case! Fifteen seconds left to make up your mind!" I just about snapped upon her remarks, as I got images of me running up to her and breaking her nose with one good solid punch. 'Don't hit girls' unspoken rule be dammed, she deserved that and more!

"Grovyle, get off my shoulders. I've got no intentions of letting you be some kind of battle slave to this psychopath." I said, looking at Grovyle in the eyes. It was a long shot, but perhaps the trophy that I earned upon saving Omar from a grizzly fate would come in handy again. I slowly produced the crowbar from my backpack as if I was unsheathing a sword, to which the girl and her pokemon found amusing. To be fair to them, it was a really desperate gesture.

"Seriously...you're that desperate? Well, I take it as a no then. Maul him!" She commanded as her four pokemon started running at me very suddenly. I admit that trying to resist might not have been the most sensible idea, but I wasn't dumb enough to stand and fight either.

"Leg it!" I yelled as I turned to flee very quickly. Grovyle provided me with some cover, using that strange glowing green ball of energy technique that he protected me from the houndoom when we first met, which he threw at our pursuers as if it were a grenade. It may have stalled the zangoose and nidorino, but it was still a very long way to the car and I doubt they were going to give up that easily. As much as I was proud for standing up to her threats, I was beginning to feel that it wasn't worth the severe injuries that I would surely suffer from very soon. Sadly, outrunning a pidgeot was going to be hard enough for Grovyle let alone me as the large flyer cut us off and started stirring up an alarmingly fierce wind with its wings as I had to shield my eyes from all the dust that was picked up by the gusts.

"Grovyle, can you take this bastard out?" I yelled as I looked at him from behind. Grovyle seemed to be struggling to walk at all, being a lot smaller and lighter than me. Sadly, the scizor didn't even care about this as he walked towards us steadily, snapping his claws menacingly.

"I can barely see the pidgeot! I'll try to run around it, hang on Floyd!" Grovyle said, trying to walk out of the dusty gale from the side, and while he eventually managed to get into the clear, I saw the shapes of the zangoose and nidorino closing in fast. The scizor stared right at me, not even bothering with Grovyle. Pinned between him and the pidgeot, I was already getting images of being gouged by their claws and talons, especially as I saw the nidorino trying to cut Grovyle off, denying him the chance to attack the pidgeot. I feared any attempt to throw the crowbar at the large flyer wouldn't end well, but I had to get the pidgeot out of the way somehow.

"Hey, pidgeot! Can you understand me?" I yelled, dust assaulting my mouth making me cough and splutter. "After I'm done with you, I'll set my sights on your bitch of a trainer. See this crowbar? I'll break both her arms. And I will love every beautiful moment of it! Stop me if you can!" This was not a mere taunt, but what I actually planned to do if for some reason I could separate her pokemon from her fragile body. The pidgeot cawed out in anger, stopped conjuring the strong winds and charged right at me, looking to dig its peak as far into my chest as possible. Screaming, I dived to the right, the pidgeot just missing by the hairs on my arms, its talons scratching my legs ever so slightly as it zoomed right by me. I scrambled to my feet in the nick of time as the scizor suddenly lunged, trying to grab me by the legs in its vice like claws.

Sprinting into a nearby patch of woods before pidgeot could swoop round and fly at me again, I did my best to hide among the trees. They were thick and acted like a shelter, but one that could be easily broken, but at least the pidgeot would have troubles trying to assault me in there, though all these thick bushes and trees would probably be cut through like warm butter to the rather large scizor. Grovyle was out of sight by this point, though I could hear the fighting between him and the two others. I really didn't appreciate his protective attitude until now, because I needed it badly at this time. If I left these trees, I'd surely be gashed severely by the pidgeot. If I stayed here, I'd probably end up losing an arm. I did however have some time on my side, but if Grovyle can't help then who could? Perhaps it was time to fight fire with fire.

"You have no fucking idea who you're about to deal with, you monsters..." I muttered under my breath as I dialled Omar's number quickly, making no errors by some miracle of a chance. "Pick up, now." I said through gritted teeth as the phone buzzed briefly before Omar answered.

"Hey dude, I'm in work now. I completely forg-" He started speaking when I cut him off.

"I need you where I am now. Just find me on your satellite locater app, I'm at the Pentland Hills. Get on Dragonite and fly your asses over here now!" I said while grinding my teeth so loudly out of stress that I swore I could hear them crunch.

"I'm at work, I can't. I'm off in an hour-"

"Either meet me there or in a hospital bed! Some psycho bitch has set her pokemon on me!" I could hear the scizor cutting his way through the trees and bushes, though his large size did slow him down significantly. The pidgeot refused to stop circling overhead, and I had got the impression that her pokemon were almost enjoying this.

"...You saved my arse from the same fate." He said, as I heard loud, rapid footsteps as he ran out of the building, telling his manager it was a dire emergency on the way. "I'm repaying the favour." He sounded far more serious than usual as he suddenly hung up. I just hoped I could hang on for a few vital minutes for him to arrive.

"Hey, Scizor, don't you think this is, I dunno, a pretty twisted thing to do? Mauling a fairly defenceless human like this." Sure it seemed strange and futile to try and bargain with a pokemon this aggressive and savage, but I suppose it was worth a shot. The scizor didn't respond as I backed away from him, going deeper into the patch of trees. I could see their trainer observing through the woods, smiling, looking like she was even enjoying the chase. Perhaps Dragonite could teach him what its like to be terrorized by a trainer's pokemon.

"Ok, we'll try this a different way then – attack me and suffer dire consequences. I promise that you'll suffer them one way or another." The scizor made a noise that resembled a strange laugh as he started pushing through faster as I was starting to get pushed to the edge of the woods where the pidgeot was waiting for me. "Well...so be it then..." I said, gulping, jumping out of my skin over backing into a tree branch. My breathing had become as heavy as a mountain due to all the stress and fear. Looking behind me, I realised I was now dangerously close to the edge of the forest, but when it came down to it, I'd rather take my chances with the pidgeot as I doubted my crowbar would do much to the giant armoured insect. These pokemon seemed to be very coordinated while taking minimal commands from their trainer, giving me the impression that they had done something like this before.

"Omar, I need you here buddy..." I said to myself, my jaw trembling as I contemplated making a break for it past the pidgeot if possible. The scizor must have been within a mere five meters of me now, a nasty grin forming on his face, and I wondered whether the psycho-bitch's attitude rubbed off on them, or maybe they were always nasty and that rubbed off on their trainer. Regardless, I had no choice now, I had to make my mad dash now. Turning my back to the scizor I fled as fast as my body would allow me into the open and at the mercy of the pidgeot. The steep slope didn't even slow me down as I let out gasps and whimpers as I tried to power my body as best as I could to just get away from them. The pidgeot didn't seem to attack immediately, but as I should have guessed, it was waiting for just the right moment.

A few seconds later I felt something sharp and heavy collide with me from behind and I swore it pierced right through my flesh just below my right shoulder. I shrieked in both incredible agony and terror as I collapsed to the ground on my front, still screaming as I felt pidgeot on top of me, digging its talons into my skin, feeling them about to pierce with just a little more force. My screams seemed to fuse with whimpers as any movement I made caused the pidgeot to dig its talons in, piercing the skin at a couple of points. Giving up and taking it like a bitch wasn't going to alleviate any pain whatsoever, so I tried thinking desperately how to get this big bird off me. Guess the only thing I could do was fight back.

Gripping my crowbar tightly in two hands, I suddenly jabbed at the area above my head, hoping I'd hit the damn pokemon hard enough and luck seemed to side with me for once as it squawked loudly in surprise jumping off me, but I wasn't done yet. Before the pidgeot could have a chance to retaliate, I quickly rolled over, swinging at its head. The crowbar collided with its skull with a satisfying clunk as it fell to the ground. Now I was the one with power.

"Stupid! Fucking! Bird!" I said, swinging down hard at the pidgeot with each word I shouted, hearing the bones crack in its right wing as it struggled helplessly, trying to escape. It knew who was the boss now and I had no reason to assault it further, and it was only until now that I felt parts of my t-shirt being slightly damp at parts with my own blood. I didn't even want to touch the wound, having no idea how bad it was. Maybe Omar's dragonite could take me to hospital to get it looked at. Feeling weak, I started walking away to see if Grovyle had made it back to my car but in a flash the scizor was suddenly upon me, gripping my arm tightly yet not too hard as to cause bleeding let alone breaking my wrist. He didn't look happy at all at what I done to his comrade and grabbed my by the neck and hoisted me in the air, my legs dangling just over a foot from the ground. Any attempts to swing at him were soon put to rest as he squeezed my wrist hard, forcing me to drop the crowbar as I grunted in pain and tried my best to breathe.

"Can we not just talk about this?" I said, forcing my voice out. He didn't seem to be trying to strangle me, but just holding me in position as he glared at me. "No? ...Fine." I gripped the claw that was holding my neck with the hand he wasn't holding and desperately tried to lift myself out of his grip, but he only tightened it with a growl preventing my escape. Lifting my legs up, I tried booting him in the face again and again with as much force as I could, but it was woefully ineffective against his armour as he frowned and gripped my neck tighter, only allowing tiny little breaths get through.

"You did this to Pidgeot?! You absolute monster!" His trainer said, running up to join us! "How could you do something like that to a pokemon?!" I made choking noises as I tried to speak, but I could only just about breathe let alone talk right now.

"Right, your wallet and any other valuables – give them to me now!" She commanded as I slowly reached into my pocket, trying to buy time for Omar to come. I struggled in place, trying to find a way to breathe a bit easier. "Forget it, I'm getting them myself. Any funny business and I'll have Scizor chop your hand off!" I hesitantly handed over my wallet to her as I felt her rummage through my bag, though she found nothing of interest to her. Out of spite, she gave me a nasty look before upper-cutting me in the groin, making me cough and splutter in pain, making it even harder to breathe, my inhales becoming weak and desperate sounding.

"That was for Pidgeot! Scizor, feel free to do with him as you wish, providing you...hrm...break his left shin. Then you can come with me to help find that Grovyle." The scizor seemed to be quite hesitant to do so, and didn't seem to be looking at his trainer or at me, instead, he seemed to be looking above my head, not having his usual mean looking narrow eyes. If anything, they seemed to tell me that he was anxious and surprised. I felt the same way when I heard a loud thud on the ground behind me and a growl from a large beast which thankfully sounded very familiar.

"Put. Floyd. Down. And back off. NOW!" Omar yelled from behind me as the scizor let me go as I collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath as my windpipe felt very relieved. Omar clicked his fingers and a narrow stream of fire shot above me and collided with the scizor as it let out a very alien scream, forcing its trainer to return it before it could experience more pain.

"Floyd, you looked fucked up! What did they do to you?!" He said as he helped me up.

"Mangled back, I think I'll need to go to hospital." I said, the blood loss making me feel rather weak, though I could still stand. I never realised just how painful it was until now as I had fewer distractions to deal with. "Just give me a second. Also, we'll need to find Grovyle first. Anyway...what exactly is your fucking problem?!" I said, turning to the trainer.

"I wanted revenge, so I decided to take my chance." She said rather casually.

"You'd commit heavy pokemon-assisted assault over twenty pounds?! Twenty pounds that I earned fairly?!"

"It's not just that: Besides, I want to do the things I want to now, live every day like it's my last. Can't you see that this might be the very last day any of us will live? Given how slow the days have become, it's going to go at a complete standpoint at this rate, and do you think society will last long? Come to think of it, this could be good practice for when those times come." She explained, and in one way I could empathise with her, at least on the living each day like the last, but what about my final days? I was already planning to make sure she wouldn't get away with this lightly.

"It's not happening you bastard!" Omar said, on one of the few times I ever saw him angry. "They should be putting you in an asylum!"

"Well, it seems like we're getting nowhere with this. Fine, I'll be getting my other pokemon and leaving this place, considering I'm not welcome here any more. Thought this little last training exercise would end without being intimidated by a trainer's dragonite, but I guess I was just very unlucky then." She said, turning away. Not only did I see this as an opportunity to get some proportionate revenge on my own, but also as a chance to be a faithful Dialgan by acting on his Maxims. Powering through my weakness, I suddenly ran at her, narrowing my eyes and readying my crowbar.

"Floyd, what are you doing?!" Omar called from behind, but I ignored his question. The trainer turned around at the last second as I swung hard around from the side to hit her arm with as much force as I could muster. She screamed helplessly as she fell down in a vulnerable heap, but I still wanted to get a couple more hits in. In an uncanny resemblance to what happened between me and her pidgeot, I swung down heavily on her leg, though it was a weak and exhausted hit. She screamed and spasmed in agony, but as I went to swing down again, I was suddenly hoisted into the air from behind.

"Floyd, what the hell?! You can't just batter girls like that!" He said, as I found myself in Dragonite's grip.

"She had more than one pokemon assault me, doing worse than what I was going to do to her, and tried to steal my possessions. She did worse to me than I was going to do to her." I said, pointing to my wallet in her hand as she tried to get to her feet, which Omar collected for me. "She deserved it by Dialgan law. To do nothing and let her get away with it would be morally repugnant."

"Oh, this Dialga shit again...let's just quickly find Grovyle and get you fixed up by a doctor." He said while sighing. I conjured saliva within my mouth and spat on the trainer as a final little 'fuck you' to her as Dragonite took off, carrying both of us high into the air. It didn't take long to find an exhausted and injured looking Grovyle walking in an open field alone with two knocked out pokemon behind him. Good thing he taught those assholes a lesson as well.

"Sorry Floyd, I was cut off by them!" He said, looking sad and extremely guilty as he was also picked up by the Dragonite. "I'd have protected you with my life if I could!"

"It's fine dude." I said weakly as I moaned in pain. "We got out of this mostly ok, and we managed to beat up our attackers together, just like they deserve. Had to phone Omar to save me as you can tell."

"You don't look ok Floyd! Have you seen your back?!" Grovyle said, climbing round Dragonite while in the air. Clearly he wasn't as battered as I was.

"Yeah, it stings all over the place. I think the bleeding has mostly stopped aside from that wound that feels pretty damn big where that pidgeot slammed into me with its beak. Back feels soaked in blood...ooh I need food, can you get a sandwich out of my bag?" Grovyle did so as I began to wolf down a turkey roll.

"You should be thankful that pidgeot missed your spine." He told me as we could see the hospital below us.

"Tell me about it." I replied, devouring the rest of the roll and getting another out of my bag. Eating and drinking didn't alleviate the pain whatsoever, but it did help stave of the feeling of weakness. "Fucking hurts horribly though." The pain wasn't so much spiky any more as it was a large sea of throbbing aches all over my back. I didn't dare touch them, or even remove my t-shirt which probably wasn't doing anything good at all to what felt like a rather deep wound. I just hoped it was just a flesh wound.

"I guess I'll barely make the minor injuries unit. If it were really that bad, I'd have probably passed out or something." I said while laughing, though it only made my ravaged back hurt more. We were given a lot of strange looks as we landed, but then again, seeing a large Dragonite outside of a hospital isn't exactly a common occurrence. Omar returned him as we were confronted with a 'no pokemon allowed inside building' sign.

"Sorry Grovyle, you're going to have to hand around some place else." I said sadly.

"Human hospitals and pokemon hospitals...why the segregation?" He said, and I found it hard to tell how serious or sarcastic he actually was. He leapt away into the trees as Omar and I walked in slowly. The sleek white and beige corridors always made me feel uneasy as The Royal Edinburgh Hospital reminded me of the inevitability of death. Always hated being in the damn places ever since I last saw my grandfather there, which ended up being the last time I ever saw him. The waiting room was a fair bit busier than what I expected it to be, most of the seats being taken by other patients, some of them with highly visible injuries.

"Hey, after you get checked in, I'm gonna leave. I'm guessing you'll be here for at least a few hours if not overnight." Omar said, looking just as uncomfortable I was seeing these people in poor condition. I nodded and approached the reception where a stressed looking receptionist behind a glass counter.

"How serious is it?" She said suddenly and quickly as I approached her.

"Uh..." I turned around and showed her the damage to my back which she looked at closely.

"Ok, you're getting priority. Any worse and I might have suggested an full scale operation. Sorry if I seemed rude, it's been abnormally busy today. Just sign here." She said, passing me a form which I signed.

"Give me a call when you're out. I'll even get Dragonite to pick you up if you'd like." Omar said as I sat down on a seat, sitting upright to not lean on it with my ravaged skin.

"I'll just take the bus. Hopefully see you soon." He said as I waved goodbye to him. A few moments later, a nurse came and guided me into a room with a doctor sitting at his computer. The fairly old man instructed me to take of my t-shirt, but that was easier said than done. Each time the texture of my t-shirt rubbed against the various wounds and cuts, a jolt of pain spiked causing me to yelp slightly. Embarrassingly, I needed a bit of help taking it off as I lied on my front on the medical bed.

"So, how did this happen, if you don't mind me asking?" The doctor asked as he started preparing his tools.

"Vicious pidgeot. Slammed its sharp beak into my back and then dug its talons in when I fell." I said, not wanting to give any more details.

"Well, it doesn't seem like any organs, bones veins or arteries were damaged which is pretty lucky. If they were, I'd be directing you to the emergency ward. Blood loss seems to be significant, although not a large threat to your health, but I'd imagine you feel quite weak right now." I nodded slightly as he inspected me further, stroking his grey beard. "In fact, it's not as bad as the receptionist said it was, but now that you're here, we might as well begin."

"Know why there's a lot of people coming in? It's not like there's a special event on where people end up doing stupid stuff while drunk." I asked, as the doctor looked like he was thinking for a bit while coming back over with some kind of liquid.

"Big 'end of the world' phenomenon, people living each day like their last. It's madness, and we're running low on supplies because of it. Was trying to convince my son to stop this 'YOLO' attitude. It's an old phrase from when I was about your age. Now this will cause some stinging in the large cuts caused by the pidgeot's talons." It was already painful enough before he disinfected it as I forced my teeth together making a very human sounding growl as I endured the pain. The stinging soon subsided however as he cleaned the wounds and dressed them with large plasters.

"I'm trying not to rush things, but the queues are getting bigger and bigger since about a third of our staff aren't here, so I'm trying to be as quick as I can. I'm guessing they got involved with this doomsday stuff as well. I swear those people got into medicine for the wrong reasons..." The doctor said as he went back to his desk to get some different equipment, presumably to treat the larger wound.

"I suppose you think everything will be fine then." I asked him as he approached me carrying his tools.

"Providing mankind doesn't go full retard or something. Sorry, I should be more professional with my patients."

"It's fine. I'm not sure what will happen though, but I somehow think it'll be really bad." I said, gazing out of the window. The sun still seemed to barely be at its mid day point, yet the clock in the room said it was already nine o'clock in the evening.

"Well, even if there is some kind of apocalypse, I'm sure we can pull through just fine providing this phase of panic comes to pass. The planet's been through some real rough stuff over time, but life went on. Anyway, I'll need you to be very still during this next part." I felt him apply some sort of cream around the large wound and it soon started to feel very strange. I kept holding still as my mind wandered. I was now imagining to myself how this would all come to pass. Earth's rotation seemed like it would grind to a halt and knew that I'd have the worst luck and be in the part of the planet that ended up in permanent night time. Keeping law and order would be paramount, and I'd happily sacrifice a few rights if it meant avoiding anarchy and a dog-eat-dog nation. Still, that would be merely the lesser of the two evils.

"Ok, I'm stitching up the wound now. It's a little wider than most wounds I've patched up, but I think I can still do this." I didn't like the sound of the doctor's lack of confidence, but being understaffed, low on supplies and having the thought of the planet freezing in position, I couldn't get angry at him for it. There was a strange tickling sensation on my back as he started sewing the wound together which distracted me from my morbid musings. I swore for a split second I saw Grovyle just outside of the window, either checking on me or just jumping around a few of the trees. I wonder if he was still in denial about the upcoming catastrophe? Even this doctor seemed to be realising it would be happening. As for Omar, I had no idea, but I somehow thought he'd be in denial as well.

"I apologize for the lack of staples to close the wound.. Now let me just give you a quick look over and I'll send you on your way." He said, putting his equipment back where he got them from. "Also, please don't do anything stupid that will land yourself here again any time soon."

"I didn't provoke the pidgeot if that was what you were asking."

"I didn't suggest that at all. It's just that I've seen to far too many people who's injuries were completely avoidable, especially 'today.' It's an endless tide of sickness, trauma and disappointment, but someone has to do it. People in speeding accidents have been horrendous, as well as people thinking 'If I'm going to die, I might as well experience some illegal high since I'll soon have nothing to answer to." He sighed, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "Twenty people have died after being admitted to hospital today. Watching all those people die not knowing if there was anything you could have done or not...sorry for my rambling, just tell the first nurse or receptionist you see on the way out that I'm ready for the next patient. Be gentle with your back and try to sleep on your front if possible."

"Keep up the good work." I said as I put my bloodied t-shirt back on and left, telling the receptionist that I was done. My back was still aching all over, but I was no longer in any serious pain. The traffic outside felt a lot more hectic than usual, and there was a truck load of speeding as car horns sounded what seemed like every few seconds.

"Forgetting someone?" Grovyle said from behind.

"Oh fuck, so I did! Sorry buddy, and before you ask, I'll be fine though I should be taking it easy for the next few days, if we're getting another one that is." I said as Grovyle looked at the traffic.

"I doubt taking a bus will be a good idea, you should probably ask Omar for an airlift from Dragonite."

"Yeah, not gonna argue there." I said as I phoned him. "Hey Omar, I think I'll get that lift from Dragonite after all."

"Ok dude, just wait outside the hospital, she'll be there in about five minutes. Mind coming round to mine for a bit? Just to relax, maybe play a few games or something?"

"Sure, hope Grovyle will also be up for it as well. See ya soon then." I hung up and returned to the entrance of the hospital.

"You are fine with staying at Omar's for a few hours, right?" I asked him as we kept our eyes in the sky to look out for the orange dragon.

"Wish you asked me first, but yes." He paused for a while, looking quite miserable. "I'm starting to think that your father was right. I mean, it's currently..." He suddenly jumped on top of my shoulders to get a look at my phone when I was reading a text message. "Quarter to ten in the evening and look – the sun's barely past mid day. The planet's grinding to a halt as we speak it seems. Floyd, what do you think of this, you know, involving Dialga."

"I don't want to talk about that part. I think I just want to enjoy the time we have left, and I'll see if I can visit my mum after I see Omar. I just see the people close to me while I still can. Just don't bring him up again, ok?" He seemed to understand as Dragonite very suddenly dropped down from behind and picked us both up into a loving, albeit unwarranted hug. She nuzzled us both and flew back into the air, soaring above the city. I would have complained about her affectionate ways, but I was in no position to argue with a dragonite under pretty much any circumstance. She also seemed to be very careful to not touch any of my injuries which I was grateful for. Omar met us just outside the flat and returned Dragonite after giving her a hug.

"See? Nothing went wrong." Omar said and lead us inside.

"I'm a little more used to it, I'll say that." I said as we entered his apartment and sat down on a small sofa together.

"I'm guessing your believing in the whole end of the world thing. Seems like everyone does now and all the news stations have pretty much exploded, but I'm telling you now – it isn't happening. Exactly how many doomsday theories have we gone through? What makes this one correct and all the other ones wrong?" Omar said, sounding a little stressed.

"You have seen the sun lately, right?" I said, pointing out of the window.

"And? You think that proves anything? It's not happening man! Now, can we just try to have fun?" He said loudly. I guess a distraction from it wouldn't hurt. Omar was certainly having a better time than I was and was routinely kicking my ass in some fighting game he just picked up. I tried drinking some of the beer that he offered me, but it tasted repulsive to me.

"You not having one Grovyle?" Omar asked, thrusting a bottle right in front of his face.

"No. I tried some alcohol once and I didn't like it." Grovyle said very quickly, trying to change the subject, but Omar was having none of it.

"Tell me what happened. Go on, I won't laugh." Omar said, egging him on. Grovyle rolled his eyes and told him what happened, and it looked like Omar was struggling not to burst into laughter. I wasn't concentrating on the game much at all as I was too preoccupied looking at what the news was on my phone. A global panic seemed to already be starting with people disregarding the law right left and centre. There were a few brief interviews with random citizens; some were in full 'live each day like your last' mode, some in crazy survivalist mode and others in complete denial. Truth be told, I could understand all three general perspectives and pretty much everything in between. What I could also understand, to an extent, were the people claiming it was some deity's wrath, though obviously no true Dialgan would say such a thing, for Dialga said explicitly that he would never directly interfere with the lives of the people and creatures that inhabit the cosmos. Easy for the old-timers and wannabe old-timers to say that the gods are dissatisfied with the world, but I'd say it was still a pretty damn good place to be, at least up until today.

"You're still really distracted by it, aren't you." Omar said, turning off the TV. "Just because everyone else seems to believe it...well..." He stalled, swaying slightly as he stood with a rather blank expression on his face.

"...Right this way, Floyd." He signalled me to follow him into his room, and after moving a few things of the desk, he put a small packet of some kind of white powder on the desk.

"Fuck me Omar, you can't be serious about this!" I said, frowning at what I assumed was cocaine.

"My brother, Esmail, left it for me as a present when he visited me from Dubai six months ago, and I-"

"And you didn't just get rid of it?!" I said, sounding angrier than I intended to.

"I've never touched any of it, ok! Look, he's a very successful man that runs his own business. He's also a very smart guy, masters degree and everything, and he says he only takes some once every two months. Just because he's eccentric doesn't make him an asshole. I'd feel terrible if I just threw away a present I got from someone, especially from my relatives who are so far away from me now." He said, gazing at his family picture, where he looked about five years younger.

"Well then...so are you just reminiscing or are you actually planning to sort a line of that shit?" I asked him, and Omar looked uncomfortable, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was seriously considering it.

"Why are you so bothered anyway? I thought you said Dialga didn't mention anything about drugs and stuff as long as they still make good moral judgements." Omar asked me as I rolled my eyes in response.

"Two things: One, people tend to make shitty decisions when high or drunk or whatever and two, it's illegal and Dialga asks me to respect the laws of the land unless they're completely shitty or oppressive." I said, now bothering to hide my agitation.

"Pretty sure you one time said that drug laws were bullshit as they only give criminal gangs and empires lots of money. Besides, you're a very sensible guy most of the time." He said, already putting the cocaine on the table and started putting it into a couple of lines.

"So you're actually going through with it!? Omar, you'll regret it, and while I'll do my best to pick up the pieces of you, I can't guarantee that I'll succeed." I said to him as Omar rested his head on the desk, looking like the poor guy was about to cry.

"It still feels like yesterday when Jake died man...and..." He tilted his head very slightly to look at the sun and then at the clock in his room. "...And if you and a massive amount of other people are right, I'll soon be losing everyone else, including you, including myself. What do I have to say for myself looking back at my life? I've been a lazy ass of a slob with only the work with out band being anything notable of achievement, and to think we could all die or worse within 'days'...I just want to try something crazy and fun while I still can."

"That sort of thinking costs the national health service a lot of money and when I was at hospital earlier, it was already heavily understaffed and lacking supplies due to the staff and public having a 'let's do stupid shit while we still can' attitude." I said, still trying to talk him out of it but my own words were starting to lose weight fast to my own ears, never mind Omar's.

"Then I'll tell the ambulance people not to bother saving me if something bad happens. Not like we'll be living much longer anyway, so I can't blame some of the doctors for not bothering. Do me a favour and put City on. It's an old album under Strapping Young Lad, you'll find it in my music folder on my computer."

"I know that album fairly well actually." I did so as I heard him take a bank note out of his wallet, but before I could press the play button I heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"Hey lovers, is it really that private that I can't come in." Grovyle said, sounding bored.

"I suppose we kind of walked right into that with just us two in my bedroom, huh huh! Let him in." He said as he snorted up the first line. Grovyle looked at what he was doing and he didn't seem to realise what it was and promptly asked about it. I didn't want to answer, so I let Omar do the talking.

"Hmmm...oh! Oh yeah that's...woah!" Omar said, looking rather wide eyed and amazed.

"Drugs. I should have guessed." Grovyle said, folding his arms. "Well, Floyd, I trust that you're going to be sensible-"

"Oh please, father..." I said sarcastically. Omar meanwhile looked perked to say the least, his usual broad grin returning to his face. Seeing that I forgot to play the music, he did the honours and started blaring it at the speakers' maximum volume.

"We can never look back because we'll never get a second chance!" He screamed in time with the vocals on the album which was, for a lack of a better word, heavy as fuck and I was getting caught up in his strange combination of dancing and standing. I guess Devin Townsend of Strapping Young Lad, and by proxy, Omar was right – we're getting no second chances now. Looking back on the news feed on my phone, then out of the window, at the clock, then finally back at Omar, all thoughts left my head except for one.

"Fuck it." I said before grabbing the rolled up bank note, closing one nostril and inhaling the other line of cocaine right through my nose. In spite of the music blaring to almost deafening volumes, I heard Grovyle gasp in shock from behind.

"Floyd! ...Just...why?! Have you considered that maybe for a second that we should be focusing on maybe trying to survive this incoming doomsday?!"

"Please don't try to make me regret this Grovyle!" I shouted, not paying full attention to what he was saying. I didn't feel much as of this moment, but from the looks of it, Omar was already high as fuck, dancing and head-banging to the loud, brutal riffs.

"Hey Floyd, you should have asked me first!" Omar said, grabbing me by the shoulder and looking really pissed off, but before I could respond, he burst into laughter.

"I'm kidding dude, you were always welcome to have some! Anyway..." Omar said as he started blathering and chatting about just about every aspect of our lives at a very rapid pace. I tried talking back, but it was easier said than done speaking to such a fast talker behind the blaring music. Eventually, Grovyle tried to turn down the music to speak to us easier but Omar got in his way.

"No way man, you're not killing the mood! You can still speak and stuff. Anyway, any trouble with trainers before you met Floyd?" The two of them talked onwards as I was beginning to feel happier about everything as I realised I was already doing some kind of ridiculous dance subconsciously.

"Hey, you two!" I said, hauling Omar and Grovyle off the bed that they were sitting on. "See this whole 'the world's doomed' thing? I'm sure we'll be just fine, right? Darkness never killed anyone with a pair of brass balls like us!"

"That's what I was trying to say earlier, except we should be preparing for it by buying food and supplies!" Grovyle said, but his words fell into the usual blur of nagging to me. Omar walked over to a pair of small speakers that seemed to work from stored electricity and plugged his phone in.

"Sounds like a great idea actually, but we're travelling with this brutal album! It's far from over!" He said, briefly stopping the music only to play it once more through the smaller speakers. "After you!" He pointed to the door as we left as Omar and I bounced down the stairs, yelling "OH! MY! FU! KING! GOD!" in unison. I heard Grovyle chuckling from behind, clearly getting caught up in our enthusiasm. I felt absolutely invincible right now, even in the face of things to come. I wanted look fate right in it's singular grotesque eye and tell it 'bring it, you fucking pussy!' That is, if such a thing were possible.

"There's a Co-op just over five minutes away, just past the Arceist church." Omar said, pointing where to go as he led us towards the supermarket.

"I bet those worthless faggots are protesting right now, claiming that we deserved this. Yeah, people like that actually fucking existed before this happened! Literally thinking that every human on the planet who isn't one of them deserves to suffer for the most petty reasons! Actually the worst sort of people to exist, at least philosophically." I said, Omar nodding in agreement in one of the few cases we agreed on religious issues.

"Hey there, how's the end time treating you so far?" I told a random pedestrian that walked by, giving me a disturbed look as she suddenly picked up her walking pace. "...Well, fuck you too then!" We attracted a few funny looks due to our rather funky walk and loud music, and we soon saw the Co-op just past the church as Omar described. I was also right about the whole fundamentalist thing with several people standing outside with signs telling us to repent and that we had this coming.

"Happy doomsday to you too you, you bunch of morally depraved psychopathic shit faced bastards!" I shouted as I walked by them slowly as they told me to bow down before Arceus and beg for mercy for my apparent transgression against him.

"Why don't you just all rip your own throats out on the spot if you're that eager to meet him then! Go on, do it! No one's gonna miss ya!" I responded as their self appointed leader who was a fair bit bigger than me approached me.

"Am I going to have to make you an example to other heathens?! Let's face it, neither of us have much longer to live, and this will be a good opportunity for you to learn the mildest form of the one true lord's wrath before you meet him personally a few 'days' later." He said, snarling at me slightly as Omar and Grovyle rushed to my side.

"I would suggest you stand back stranger. Floyd, just ignore these clowns and go to the supermarket before they run out of stock." Grovyle said, though I had no chance of standing down.

"Oh, so you think I deserve to suffer for eternity for not sucking Arceus's dick?! Wow, actually worse than the fucking nazis!" We stared angrily at one another, both of us refusing to flinch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Omar approach a woman who was with these mad cultists and looked like she was filming us, possibly for propaganda purposes.

"Bitch, mind cutting that shit out?!" He said, hitting the phone out of her hand as it hit the pavement hard, possibly breaking. I laughed loudly upon seeing it which seemed to enrage the fundamentalists. Grovyle looked like he was in a heavy dilemma right now – he didn't seem to like our crusade against these cunts, but he still seemed to hate them almost as much as Omar and I did, scowling at the signs that essentially told him that an afterlife of non-existence was too good for him.

"Guys, you're giving them far more attention than they deserve!" Grovyle said, getting between me and the large Arceist.

"Wait a minute, aren't you that Dialgan Priest's son? I almost feel sorry for that evil man for twisting you into this blasphemous wretch you have became!" He said to me and all patience I had snapped. Truth be told, I had been holding it back the entire time. Upon even glancing upon these people, I wanted to break each and every one of their noses, starting with the guy running this charade to make a statement.

"Oh fuck you, you fucking fuck!" I said, swinging a punch right at his face, powered by my cocaine fuelled wrath. He staggered backwards slightly as the others gasped as I went to punch him again. Sadly, being almost two meters tall and well toned had its advantaged as he swung at me so hard that I completely lost my footing and fell on the ground.

"Fucking get off him!" Omar said, jumping right at him as Grovyle couldn't find it in himself to hold him back as Omar tackled him to the ground and started wailing on his face. By this point, a miniature riot has started as some of the fundamentalists went to attack him. After helping me up and telling me to stay back, Grovyle cut the protesters off, slicing at one of their legs to try and quell their aggression. I wasn't in any mood to do as I was told, and the only thing I cared about is this righteous crusade. Grabbing my crowbar from my backpack, I charged in like a berserker, swinging dangerously at one of their heads, which barely missed and just hit the guy's shoulder. After striking another, I was met with a heavy fist to the nose and I heard something crack as I fell to the ground once more, making sure to land on my front to avoid damaging by already ravaged back even further. The top of my beard felt a little wet as I padded it with my hand and now saw that it was covered with blood from my nose.

"I've had it with these fucks!" Omar said, standing up, pulling a pokeball from his backpack and releasing Dragonite. She looked absolutely furious upon seeing Omar and I beaten up slightly, and it was terrifying and jarring to see her not be her usual affectionate and friendly self. "Now, here's how it's going to go down: destroy your own signs, leave, and give the most heartfelt apology of your life to any children you have! Dragonite here is very emotional, and the slightest wrong move could trigger her to go on a rampage, so I would be very careful about what you do next." Dragonite growled and roared, and the cultists seemed to finally be calming down.

"This, right here, is proof that Arceus's love is vanishing from the world. Removing mandatory sessions with pastors in school was only the beginning..." The leader said as he looked completely distraught as he was forced to break his own sign. Omar had gone a bit too far by using a pokemon to threaten them, using the same methods as that trainer who tried to mug me – the same method that the bastard used on his birthday to try and my Omar. Very suddenly, he yelled in surprise as someone tackled him from behind.

"You are under arrest for breach of the peace!" The police officer said. I was honestly wondering exactly how stupid or desperate he was to try and just go in with handcuffs when there was a dragonite standing right next to him, and the large and loyal pokemon did what large and loyal pokemon tend to do. She picked up the police officer and roared so loudly in his face that I had to cover my ears in shock. He screamed in fear and pain as she flung him against a building. I sincerely hoped he was ok and seeing that happen did sober me up quite a bit.

"Fuck me!" I said, running over to him. Dragonite didn't seem to be happy with me even showing sympathy for the police officer who was quite frankly just doing his job, though in a foolishly brave manner. The officer groaned and seemed to barely be conscience.

"My arm...I think it's broken." He said and I noticed the bleeding bulge in his left arm. It made me sick and I wanted to throw up.

"I'll phone for an ambulance!" I said as I quickly dialled 999 and gave the emergency response unit the details. I was actually surprised I wasn't on hold for ten minutes given what had been happening.

"...Thank you. I...I had to try and keep order. Half the unit have pretty much given up." He said, his voice sounding weak. "It was really stupid of me, but I had to try. Someone had to." Unfortunately, I was no good at first aid, so I had to count on bystanders.

"It's for him, not me! I'll be fine!" I said to one of the Arciests. "Yes I'm still fucking sick of you stupid sick people, but if you can help him...I dunno, maybe it'd ease our conscience a bit. I mean, you're all retarded and twisted, but...but I regret lashing out like that."

"Get out of the way then." The leader of the demonstration said, pushing me aside and going over to try and do his best to give first aid to him. I approached Omar and Grovyle who looked like they were having an intense argument.

"I didn't tell Dragonite to attack the policeman Grovyle! Though let's be honest, he was a fucking idiot to try and arrest me to begin with with her standing by."

"You didn't tell her to stop either Omar." Grovyle replied, folding his arms.

"She acted of her own free will, and isn't it kind of rich of you of all people to complain about me reigning in her actions? You complained several times about pokemon training and then you have the shit within you to criticise when it suits you?! Look, I'm treating you as a reasonably smart person right now, which is what you always wanted – maybe you should learn to take the responsibility of being one as well, and I mean the responsibility for yourself and your actions and not trying and failing miserably to be a second dad to Floyd, which is almost creepy if you ask me! I don't know how Floyd puts up with you! Maybe you should treat Dragonite with the same respect and call her out on what she done if it bothers you that much instead of blaming me!"

"Maybe if you didn't snort that cocaine stuff up your nose then maybe you'd not be so irritable and up your own ass that you'd see that you are being completely bone-headed right now!"

"I bet you're going to start whining and complaining to Floyd as well after this! Well let me tell you something – I've known him for a lot longer than you have and I'd say he's in no mood to put up with your shit right now!"

"You're god damn right!" I said, finally chiming in to their conversation, trying to wipe the blood from my nose without touching it too hard. "Still, I acted like a damn idiot. I guess at the time I just felt like I had to man up and show those heathens who's righteous. I really hate to sound so corny, but cocaine is a hell of a drug. I suppose we should get some food now." I pointed at the Co-op which looked bustling with desperate shoppers.

In spite of how heaving it was, we had little trouble grabbing what we could and sticking it in our baskets. I wasn't a big salad eater, but when push would inevitably come to shove, I'd happily eat some. The shelves were very poorly stocked and it seems like there were only three staff members trying to run the place. The thieves were barely even trying to be subtle, given that no one was really trying to stop them. I had enough of law breaking to last a lifetime to even consider that and paid for my food like a decent human being.

"I should probably head home now, this will last me for a few days, or ninety-six hours, whatever you want to call it. Might go to the corner shop right afterwards and see if they have anything left that they're wanting to sell." I said once we reached a quieter street.

"Yeah dude, I should probably head home now. Call me when you get back ok? I hope your nose isn't broken or anything." Omar responded, and it was only until now I considered the possibility. Between all the distractions and the drugs, I guess I became very pain tolerant.

"I think it is – why do you think I'm mouth breathing right now, hahaha! ...Sorry, I'm not good at this forced laughter thing. Well, it's not been the best day by a long shot, but it's sure been memorable!" I responded with Grovyle jumping on my shoulders again.

"I guess you'll be focused on survival now, won't you. I sure will be." He said, and I wasn't going to argue this time. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and looking at the caller number, it was my father.

"Give me a moment...hey dad, what's up? It's chaos out here! You keeping safe?" I said, but I wasn't prepared for the onslaught my father was about to give me.

"What the fuck were you thinking Floyd?! I thought you were above that sort of barbaric behaviour!"

"What?! What are you on about?"

"You were on the news! The local news stations were filming the small riots taking place all over Edinburgh, and you were fighting outside one of the Arceist churches! I'm in shock, Floyd, in shock! You're acting just as savage as the rest of them, and that sort of brutishness will be the death of us all! Tell me exactly what happened!" My dad shouted at me, filling me with even greater guilt than I had before. What the hell was I thinking taking that white powder up my nose. Embellishing was very tempting, but I had already defiled the lord's laws enough as it is today.

"There were a bunch of Arceist freaks outside the church when we were on the way to the supermarket and...well...I kind of started a fight with them. Not Omar, me. Look, I regret it, I'm sorry ok? I did what I thought was right at the time, standing up against horrifyingly toxic beliefs." I said, trying to paint things in a less negative light without denting the truth.

"You started it?! What?! You know better than that! What were you thinking?! What were you smoking Floyd?!"

"Snorting, dad. I took some drugs, cocaine to be precise. I thought we were all going to die very soon, so I decided to try something crazy while I still could. Lead me to do very reckless things, and I regret them wholeheartedly! Please dad, I already feel horrible enough as it is, you don't need to lecture me."

"So...you're just like all the others...I guess our talk about remaining righteous meant nothing then." My dad said, and I thought he was going to hang up right there. "Tell me Floyd – why do you regret it? Do you regret it because it brought undeserved suffering on other people, or because you received that rather nasty punch to the face."

"The former. Dad, how do you think the world will die?"

"So young and undisciplined...well, you're only twenty, I can't expect someone of your age to be too solid on the foundations in which you run your life, but for the love of all that is good and true, try harder next time! As for the dying world, as you can guess, will die by ceasing to rotate. We'll be stuck in an never ending night, and you think law and order is looking shaky right now? Just you wait, things will get much worse with the inevitable food shortages. That being said, maybe we can survive this ordeal, and hopefully Dialga will make a recovery against this strange illness that my dimensional screams have revealed to me. I have already made a lot of moves to ensure we can last a few months. Meet me at the location on your map that I'm about to send to you, and you can bring Grovyle with you. I am so glad the connections within the church allowed me to do this..." I certainly appreciated my dad not getting hung up about the whole fiasco for too long and that he had a plan in the face of certain gloom, but I noticed that he didn't mention Omar.

"What about Omar? Can he come as well?" I asked, looking at my best friend.

"After letting his pokemon assault a police officer?! I'm not sure that's the sort of person that will be suited to my survival plan...you're going to do everything you can to convince me otherwise, right?"

"Yes, yes I am. Shall I come and meet you now? I've got quite a lot of food with me."

"Indeed, the sooner the better, and I hope you will have prepared a good argument to convince me to let Omar in with us. See you soon and stay safe Floyd."


End file.
